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Cranberry Corners 



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Cranberry Corners 

A Comedy Drama in Four Acts 



By 

ARTHUR LEWIS TUBBS 

Author of "Valley Farm," "The " Country Minister," 

"Willow dale," "The Village Schoolma'am," "The 

Country Doctor," "Miss Buzbfs Boarders," 

"A Double Deception," etc. 



NOTE 

This play may be performed by amateurs free of royalty and with- 
out express permission. The professional stage-rights are, however, 
strictly reserved, and performance by professional actors, given in ad- 
vertised places of amusement and for profit, is forbidden. Persons 
who may wish to produce this play publicly and professionally should 
apply to the author in care of the publishers. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 

1913 



Cranberry Corners /^/3 

CHARACTERS 

Tom Dexter, one of Nature s noblemen. 

Sidney Everett, of the world worldly. 

Ben Latham, a wanderer. 

Andrew Dexter, Tom s father. 

Hezekiah Hopkins, fond of an argument. 

Nathan Speck, the hired man. 

Carlotta Bannister, a child of fate. 

Anastasia Bannister, her " stylish " aunt, from New York. 

Amelia Dexter, sister of Andrew. 

Mrs. Muslin, something of a talker, " as you might say. 

Bella Ann, help at the farm. 

Florine, a maid. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I.— The yard at Ferndale Farm, Cranberry Corners, on 
an afternoon in July. The telegram. 

Act II —Same as Act I, about a week later. The stranger. 

Act III.— Residence of Mrs. Bannister, New York City. Three 
months have elapsed. In the hands of fate. 

Act IV.— Back at the farm, two weeks later. The silver lining. 

Time of Playing.— Two hours and a quarter. 




Copyright, 1913, by Walter H. Baker & Co. 



COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS 

Tom Dexter. A stalwart, good-looking young farmer, well 
educated and gentlemanly in appearance and manner. In first 
act, he wears plain working suit, or trousers and dark shirt ; straw 
hat. Act II, same. Act III, plain suit, with derby or soft hat. 
Act IV, dark suit. He is somewhat paler. He is of the generous, 
whole-hearted type, strong, manly and self-dependent, but kindly 
and gentle, though firm and heroic on occasion. 

Sidney Everett. Handsome, somewhat flashy " man of the 
world," rather of the adventurer sort, though not melodramatic. 
As he appears in only Act III, and it is evening, he wears full 
dress, or dinner suit. 

Ben Latham. About fifty years of age. In Act II, poorly 
dressed ; he is pale and emaciated, showing weakness and the 
effects of long confinement and despondency. Act III, somewhat 
better suit, but very plain, evidently belonging originally to an- 
other ; he is somewhat improved in looks, though still pale and 
weak. Act IV, almost restored to health, in good spirits and well 
dressed, with hat, overcoat, etc. 

Andrew Dexter. Fifty-five or sixty years of age. Farmer of 
prosperous type, countrified, but by no means a caricature. Acts 
I and II, farm working suit, with straw hat. Act IV, plain and 
neat clothes, calico shirt, string tie, etc. 

Hezekiah Hopkins. About same as Andrew, a thin, comical 
little old man, with high-pitched voice. Very funny without being 
too ridiculous. In Acts I and II, dark shirt and trousers, with soft 
or straw hat. Acts III and IV, better suits, with gay tie, etc. 

Nathan Speck. Large, good-natured farmhand, about twenty- 
one or two years old. Somewhat slow and dull of comprehension, 
but not a "bumpkin." In first two acts he has on working 
clothes, with straw hat. Act IV, neat suit, somewhat «• dressed 
up " ; hair slickly combed. 

Carlotta Bannister. Very pretty and attractive girl of 
twenty or thereabouts, ingenue type, but showing that she has seen 
-the world and understands life, though still with the charm of in- 
nocence and unaffected simplicity. In Act I she wears handsome 
traveling suit, with hat. Act II, light summer dress, dainty and 
becoming; Act III, evening, gown, not too elaborate. Act IV, 
traveling costume, with hat. 

Anastasia Bannister. Woman of about fifty, large, haughty 
and -disdainful of others whom she considers beneath her. She 
has a dignified manner, that of the cultivated woman of the world 
and society. Act I, handsome traveling dress, hat, etc. Carries 
lorgnette, which she frequently uses rather superciliously. Act II, 
summer costume, somewhat elaborate, but in good taste. Act 
III, elegant evening gown, with jewels. 



4 COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS 

Amelia Dexter. Forty-five or fifty years of age, the gentle, 
refined M old maid," lovable and considerate of others. Hair 
gray, brushed back or crimped. Act I, calico or gingham dress, 
with neat apron. Act II, the same or similar. Act IV, plain 
black or dark dress, with neck-piece, brooch, etc. She should be 
bright and amusing, without exaggeration. 

Mrs. Muslin. A quick, sprightly little woman of fifty or more, 
of the village gossip variety. She talks very fast and generally 
seems to be in a hurry, but always has time to linger and chatter. 
Act I, calico dress, with sunbonnet ; Act II, the same. Act III, 
rather gay dress, hat with flowers, etc., all countrified and comical 
without being too grotesque. Act IV, plain house dress. 

Bella Ann. Countrified girl of nineteen, slow and lazy ; 
speaks in a drawl. Inclined to be "romantic." Acts I and II, 
calico dress with gingham apron, soiled by kitchen work ; hair 
somewhat awry. Act IV, plain, neat dress, with ribbons and 
cheap jewelry. 

Florine. Black dress, with small white apron. Typical wait- 
ing maid in fashionable city house. 



PROPERTIES 

Telegram. Hand-bags, etc., for Anastasia and Carlotta. Several 
parcels of different sizes, some in grocery store paper. Two or 
three old horseshoes. Glass of water. Several letters, stamped 
and addressed. Lorgnette for Anastasia. Bag and bundles, 
cloth holder, etc., for Hezekiah and Mrs. Muslin. Legal sized 
paper, folded. Lapboard or small table and set of dominoes. 
Stockings and darning materials. Letter. Small organ, violin, 
off stage. 



Notice to Professionals.— This play is published for the 
free use of amateurs only. Professional actors or companies 
desiring to present it in any form or under any title are for- 
bidden to do so without the consent of the author, who may be 
addressed in care of the publishers. 



Cranberry Corners 



ACT I 

SCENE. — The yard at Ferndale Farm. House, with porch, 
r. ; fe?ice, with open gate, c. at back ; bench, l. ; farm 
backing, etc. It is an afternoon in July. As curtain rises, 
Andrew Dexter and Hezekiah Hopkins are heard off l., 
in earnest, and, at times, angry dispute, with such expres- 
sions as " I tell f , the Democrats' 11 soon ruin the cowitry / " 
"What hev the Republicans ever done?" etc. Amelia 
Dexter (Aunt 'Melia) stands in gate looking off somewhat 
anxiously, listening to the conversation. 

Enter Bella Ann from house to porch, wiping hands on 
apron. 

Bella (on porch). What's the matter, Miss Dexter ? They 
fight' n' agin? 

Aunt M. Land, I guess they ain't fighting, exactly. They 
ain't come to blows yet. It's jest Andrew and Hezekiah Hop- 
kins having another argument about politics. They're always 
having squabbles. 

Bella. I don't see what good it does 'em. They never git 
nowheres. 

Aunt M. I know they don't; but that ain't it. They just 
like the fun of doing it, and Andrew gets all het up, Hezekiah 
does aggravate him so. 

Bella. Huh ! thinks he knows it all, that man does, V 
nobuddy else don't know nothin'. He makes me tired. 

Aunt M. {turning, coming down). Well, if he does, I 
guess he ain't all that makes you tired. You got them dinner 
dishes done? 

Bella. Not quite. Most. 

Aunt M. Well, you hurry up and finish 'em. It's after 
three o'clock. (She goes up and again looks off to l. The 

5 



6 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

voices have gradually subsided.') I guess they're letting up. 
It's about time. (Turns, looks off to R.) Here comes Mrs. 
Muslin. 

Bella (in door of house). Huh ! (Motions with head 
off l.) Guess she'll want t' go out there 'n' jine in. Kind o' 
in her line — confabbin'. 

Aunt M. That'll do, Bella Ann. It don't look well for 
you to criticise. 

Bella. Land, I wa'n't. Jest speakin' the truth. 

(Exit Bella to house, as Mrs. Muslin enters from r., 
down through gate to l. c. Aunt M. goes to r. c.) 

Aunt M. Good -afternoon, Mrs. Muslin. 

Mrs. M. How d' do, Miss Dexter? (Goes to bench l.) 
Excuse me 'f I set right down, I'm that flabbergasted, 's y* 
might say. (Wipes face and fans herself with sunbonnet or 
apron.) It's hot as ever was, *n' I jest rushed. Got t' git 
right back, 's I left bread in the oven. But I had t' come 
down to the post-office t' see 'f they was a letter from my niece. 
I'm sort of expectin' her soon. 

Aunt M. Carlotta ? 

Mrs. M. Yes, Carlotty Bannister. I thought you'd be 
interested — 'n' I cal'late 's how your Tom will too, seein' as 
how — well, when she was here last summer I guess you noticed 
how they — but of course I don't want t' say anything, 'n' 

Aunt M. It ain't necessary. I know Tom admired her, as 
well as you do, but I also know that it wasn't one-sided. I 
guess she thought about as much of him as he did of her, only 
being from the city, and having that aunt of hers to think 

of Oh, I ain't got a word to say against Carlotta. She's 

as nice a girl as I ever saw, and she'd make Tom a good wife, 
but, as I've told him time and again, she ain't for such as him. 

Mrs. M. No, her Aunt Anastasia's bound to marry her off 
to some rich man, 'n' that's why I'm so s'prised that she's 
lett'n' her come right back here this summer where Tom is. 
It's a pretty poor way t' break it off, seems t' me. She wrote 
she'd be here some day this week, 'n' I ain't had another word 
sence. It's got me so upset, I'm all in a flummadiddle, 's y' 
might say. 

Aunt M. I wouldn't let it worry me. Carlotta ain't like 
company, for all she's real stylish. She never puts on any 
airs, with all her advantages, — been t' Europe and everything. 



CRANBERRY CORNERS J 

I suppose her father left her money. How long's he been 
dead? 

Mrs. M. Sence she was a little bit of a thing, s' far's I can 
find out. I never knew him. Y' see, my sister Jane — Car- 
lotty's mother — went away t' boardin' -school, got in with some 
stylish girls, 'n' met Fred Bannister 'n' married him. She 
never come home much after that V didn't live but a few 
month after Carlotty was born. Then we heard Fred Bannister 
was dead too, a few years after that, 'n' that his brother's wife, 
this Aunt Anastasia, who was rich 'n' stylish, had took Carlotty 
t' bring her up. She let Carlotty come here last summer t' 
make us a visit, but as for Anastasia, the only time I ever see 
her was once when I went t' New York on the 'xcursion. She 
was as stuck-up as a queen and all her family, 's you might 
say, 'n' I've been jest waitin' for a chance t' pay her back ever 
sence. " Anastasia ! " Did y' ever hear of such a name for a 
grown woman ? And she comes up to it, too. But land ! 
I must go. 

(She rises and is going up c, when Nathan Speck enters 
c, from l., with telegram. She pauses, l. ; Nat., c. ; 
Aunt M., r. c.) 

Nat. How d' do, Mis' Muslin ? Here's one o' them tele- 
grafts for you. 

( Offers her telegram, which she refuses to take, regarding 
it with horror.) 

Mrs. M. A — what? Not a 



Aunt M. A telegram, Nathan ? 

Nat. Yes, ma'am. Ain't no telegraft office in this place, 
y' know, but they sent it over from Mercer by a boy on a 
bicycle. 

(Again offers envelope to Mrs. M., who still refuses it, 
sinking limply onto bench.) 

Mrs. M. A telegram — for me ! Oh, I always knew I'd 
get one of 'em some time. I dassn't touch it — I jest dassn't. 
I know somebuddy's dead — Carlotty 's smashed up in a railroad 
accident — or somethin'. Nobuddy ever sends a telegram unless 
something's the matter. (Almost in hysterics.) Oh, dear ! 
Oh, dear ! I've always known something terrible would hap- 
pen, ever sence I broke that lookin'-glass, a year ago last May. 



8 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

(NaT. stands nonplussed, holding telegram ; Aunt M. looh 
ing on, apparently somewhat disgusted, about to speak, 
when And. and Hez. are again heard wrangling off ' L., 
approaching. Nat., in gate, looks off to l.) 

Nat. Here they come, havin' another set-to. 

Enter l., down through gate, And. and Hez., shaking fists 
in each others faces, oblivious to the others. 

And. You ain't got a mite of sense, Hezekiah Hopkins. 
You don't know any more about politics than an old cow 
knows about flyin' machines. 

Hez. Huh ! I guess if I didn't know no more'n you do, 
I'd 

And. Where'd you ever learn s' much, you dried-up little 
shrimp of a specimen of a 

Hez. I'd have you know I was in Albany once, V went to 
th' legislatY, and heard more 

{These last two speeches are spoken together, very excitedly, 
and they are about coming to blows, ivhen Tom Dexter 
enters fro?n r., through gate, and steps between them.) 

Tom. Here ! here ! Father — Mr. Hopkins — what does all 
this mean? I'm surprised 

Hez. Wal, he 

And. He makes me 

Tom. There, now, that's all right. All over politics, too. 
Nonsense ; neither side is much better than the other, so what's 
the use quarreling over them? Two old friends, like you, 
too 

And. But he says the Republicans ain't 

Hez. Yes, jest as if the Democrats 

{They simmer down, beginning to assume a more friendly 
attitude, as they notice the others, standing back of gate. 
Tom comes down c.) 

Tom. Howdy, everybody ? How are you, Mrs. Muslin ? 
Seems to me you look excited too. Anything the matter? 

Mrs. M. Oh, dear, yes — something terrible, I know they is. 

Tom. Why — what 

Aunt M. You see, Tom, she's got a telegram — Nathan 
brought it to her 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 



Nat. A boy brung it over from Mercer on a bicycle • 



Aunt. And she's afraid to open it. She's afraid it's bad 
news. 

(Bella has entered from house to porch and stands looking 
on, much interested.') 

Tom. Pshaw ! a telegram is nothing. Everybody gets them 
nowadays. Why, perhaps it's good news instead of bad. Open 
it and see. 

Aunt M. Yes, Mrs. Muslin, open it. 

Mrs. M. Oh, I dassent, Miss Dexter — you open it — (giv- 
ing Aunt M. the telegram) and if it's bad news, break it to me 
gently. I'm on the verge of a collapse, as y' might say. 

Aunt M. {opening telegram and reading). Why, it ain't 
bad news at all, Mrs. Muslin. It's from your niece. 

Mrs. M. From Carlotty ? 

Aunt M. Yes. She says she'll be here to-day. See. 

(Offers telegram.) 

Mrs. M. You read it out, Miss Dexter. I ain't got my 
specs. 

Aunt M. (reading). " Will reach there this afternoon. 
Aunt Anastasia is with me. Carlotta." 

Mrs. M. (springing up). For the land, I wa'n't expectin' 
her for a day or two. And she's with her — Anastasia ? 

Aunt M. That's what it says. 

Mrs. M. That woman — with all her lugs ? My goodness ! 

Tom {greatly interested). From Miss Bannister? You 
say she is coming — to-day ? 

Mrs. M. Yes, she is, according to that, and her stuck-up 
aunt with her. I declare, I call that cheek, comin* right in on 
me this way, with no warnin'— downright cheek. 

And. (coming down). S'pose your own relations thought 
they wouldn't need no special invite. 

Hez. (also coming down, near And.). Own sister, ain't 
she, Mis' Linen? 

Mrs. M. My name ain't " Linen, " Hezekiah Hopkins, 'n' 
you know it ! 

Hez. Excuse me. I meant Muslin. Knew 'twas some 
kind o' cloth. 

Mrs. M. Wal, 'tain't Linen. As f'r that woman, I d' know's 
I'd even call her relation. My sister's husband's brother's 



10 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

wife, that's all she is. Not very close. I never see her but 
once, 'n* then she didn't see me. Looked right over my head, 
as y' might say. But I s'pose I'll have t' make the best of it, 
for Carlotty's sake. (Goes up.) I've got t' go to the store 
after some things. Anyhow, I'll have the satisfaction of treatin' 
her mighty cool. If she thinks I'm goin' to work myself t' 
death tryin' t' make things stylish for her, she'll find out her 
mistake. If she don't like it, she can do the next thing, style 
'r no style ! 

Tom. But she may not be so bad, after all, Mrs. Muslin. 
If she is anything like your — niece 

Mrs. M. Oh, I see where your eyes are, young man. But 
she ain't. Land, she's as stuck up as the Queen of Sheba, 
while Carlotty — wal, I guess I don't need t' tell you anything 
about her. ( To Aunt M.) Do I, Miss Dexter — him? 

And. 'Tain't goin' t' do him no good fallin' in love with a 
city gal 

Tom. Father ! 

Aunt M. Now, Andrew, I guess you 'n' Hezekiah 'd bet- 
ter go 'n' talk politics. 

And. Want t' shut me up, I s'pose. Wal, I've heard 
enough about city gals 'n' country fellers, V I don't want a 
son of mine 

Tom. Now, father, don't you worry about me. I can take 
care of myself. I shall be very glad to see her again. 

Aunt M. Of course you will, Tom, and you ain't the only 
one. I guess the whole village fell in love with her when she 
was here, as far as that goes. (And., up by gate, expresses to 
Hez. his dissatisfaction at being "shut off, 1 ' and they go off to 
R., beginning a?iother discussion, which grows more animated 
as they disappear. Aunt M. goes up by fence and looks after 
them. Mrs. M. in gate, Tom down r. c. ; Bella, r., or on 
porch, all the time listening eagerly, but unnoticed. Nat., l.) 
I declare, they're beginning another confab. 

Tom. Oh, well, let them go, if they enjoy it. The affairs 
of the nation have got to be settled in some way. I am more 
interested in — in your news, Mrs. Muslin. 

Mrs. M. News? I should say it was. All I've got t' say 
is, 's I said before, I guess she'll git treated mighty cool. 

Nat. Guess she can stand that, this weather. [Exit, l. 

Mrs. M. I must be gittV along t' the store. I s'pose Anas- 
tasia — " Anastasia ! " Huh! Such a name for a grown 
woman ! 



CRANBERRY CORNERS II 

Bella. Sounds like it was out of The Fireside Companion, 
don't it? 

Aunt M. (coming down to r.). Bella Ann, what 'd I tell 
you about that kitchen ? 

Bella. Yes, ma'am, I'm a-goin'. 

Mrs. M. I don't know what I c'n give 'em to eat. Guess 
I'll git a slice of ham and give 'em some ham 'n' eggs. Would 
you call that stylish ? 

Aunt M. Id' know as I would, exactly, but it ought to do. 

Mrs. M. She might get worse. I might get some dried 
herrin', too, so 'f she expects a fish course. 'N' I'll stir up 
some minute pudd'n', 'n' I've got some baked beans left over, 
'n' some cold biled cabbage. I reckon that 'd be good enough 
for the Vanderbilts. 

Aunt M. (laughing*). I should say so — with all their 
style. 

Bella. Hope I'll git a good look at her, if she's so stylish. 
Ain't none too much o' that in this old place. 

Aunt M. Bella Ann ! 

Bella {in door). Yes, ma'am. Well, — they ain't ! 

[Exit, to house. 

Mrs. M. (going up). Wal, I'll have t' be gitt'n' along 'r 
I'll never git back in time t' receive 'em. (In gate, about to 
go.) 'N' jest think, I ain't got no hired girl. I'll have t' send 
over 'n' see if Sallie Patchin can't come 'n' help me out. 
(Comes back to gate, gradually down to c. Aunt M. is r., 
Tom, l. c.) Say, d' you know, I think it looks kind o' queer, 
her comin' here this way — used t' goin' t' Newport 'n' all them 
swell places? Looks like she had some object. Anastasia 
Bannister ain't one t' do anything without some object 'r other, 
I know that much. Mebbe — I shouldn't wonder if she'd heard 
about you, Tom, V — of course, you're good enough for any 
girl, but Anastasia has high notions, 'n' — wal, I guess you know 
what I mean. 

Aunt M. I s'pose she wants Carlotta to marry some rich 
man. Mebbe she's got him picked out. 

Tom. It seems to me that is a matter in which the young 
lady should have something to say, and 

Mrs. M. No doubt you've sounded her on the subject. 
Hope y' have. I'd like t' see y' git Carlotty, if it was only t* 
spite Anastasia. {Again goes up.) But, land, I mustn't stay 
here another minute. (In gate.) You mark my word, though, 
they's somethin' b'hind it all, 'n' it's my opinion it's more than 



12 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

you, Tom Dexter, too. Carlotty told me a thing 'r two when 
she was here last summer, 'n' — but there, I guess I'm tellin' 
tales outside the schoolhouse, as y' might say. I must hurry 
on. {Goes off toward L.) I'll stop on m way back, Miss 
Dexter, if I have time. I declare, I never was so upset. 

[Exit L., hurriedly, 

Tom. Whew ! but she's a regular cyclone — " as you might 
say." {Looks off l.) 

Aunt M. I should say so. She's almost as bad as Andrew 
and Hezekiah Hopkins when they get started on politics. I 
wonder what she meant, about that woman having some object 
coming here. 

Tom. I wonder. There seems to be something. By the 
way, Aunt 'Melia, have you ever heard — do you know ? — Well, 
I don't suppose it's any of my business — of course it isn't — but 
I can't help wondering sometimes about Carlotta's — that is, 
Miss Bannister's — parents. She said something once, when she 
was here last summer, that made me think she doesn't know 
much herself about her father, and that perhaps they have been 
keeping something from her. Have you ever heard anything? 

Aunt M. No, Tom, only what Mrs. Muslin has told me, 
and that isn't much. She doesn't know herself. It seems her 
sister Jane — Carlotta's mother — went away and got married and 
then died in a few years, and he died, too, and Mrs. Muslin 
says she never even saw him and never was able to find out 
much. This Aunt Anastasia took Carlotta to raise and — be- 
yond that I don't know any more than you do. But, Tom, 
dear, don't — don't get carried away with — with 

Tom. Now, Aunt 'Melia, don't you worry about that. I can't 
help liking — m'm — well, being in love — with her, but — hon- 
estly, I don't intend to get tragic about it. All is, if she loves 
me, too, and says the word, I mean to make her Mrs. Thomas 
Dexter. That is, of course, if — if possible. And " Love will 
find the way," you know, in spite of stylish obstacles and fierce 
old aunts. 

Aunt M. Mercy, Tom ! How can you call me "a fierce 
old aunt"? 

Tom. You ? Oh, ho, you dear soul ! You know who I 
meant all right, and I look upon you as so far from fierce that 
I depend on you to help me get the best of the other aunt, who 
really is, if what I have heard is true, a fierce proposition. 

Aunt M. All I mean is, Tom, I don't want you to go and 
get your hopes up and then have to suffer when you don't 



CRANBERRY CORNERS I 3 

realize 'em. She ain't our kind, Tom — though, of course, I 
know you're good enough for the best woman that ever lived, 
and style ain't everything — but she's used to grand things, and 
city life, and all that, and — and even if she thought she loved 
you, and you was happy just at first, it wouldn't last, and — 

and (Voices of And. and Hez. heard off r., in loud 

argument, as before, and at the same time Nat. runs in l., 
calling.) Good land, what's all that rumpus? 

Enter Bella from house to porch, with a plate, which she is 
wiping. As usual, she shows eager interest in what is 
going on. 

Nat. The stage has come, V they're on it. 
Aunt M. Who — them ? 

Nat. Yep. Miss Bannister 'n' her aunt. My, but she's 
swell lookin' ! 

(Tom goes up to gate, looks off to u,follo7ved by Aunt M. 
Nat., down part way to c, is joined by Bella. Enter 
And. and Hez., r., confabbing, oblivious to the others, 
pausing R., beyond fence.) 

Bella. How's she look, Nathan ? What she got on ? 
Nat. Clothes. 

Bella. No, smarty, has she? So've I, ain't I? — but I 
reckon they ain't the same kind. 

(Carlotta Bannister, attired in a handsome traveling cos- 
tume and carrying a small bag, runs i?i from L. and is 
joyfully received by Tom and Aunt M., whom she greets 
most cordially, shaking hands with Tom and kissing 
Aunt M. And. and Hez. stop their wrangling and fol- 
low on, as Car., Aunt M., and Tom come down through 
gate to c. Nat. is R., Bella on porch.) 

Car. Oh, how nice it is to be back, and to see you all 

again ! Everything looks just the same, and Oh, here's 

Mr. Dexter. How do you do, Mr. Dexter ? 

(Goes and shakes hands with And.) 

And. How d' do? Pretty well, thank you. Certainly am 
glad to see you, too, Miss Carlotty. You ain't changed, either 
— jest as pretty 's ever, — prettier ! Ain't she, Tom? 

Tom. I think so. 



14 CkANBERRY CORNERS 

Car. Oh — now And here's — yes, it's Mr. Hopkins, 

isn't it? 

Hez. (as he shakes hands with her). That's who 'tis, miss — 
Hezekiah. So you remember me, too ? 

Car. Well, I guess I do — and those red apples. 

Hez. {chuckling). That so ? Wal, they's goin' t' be plenty 
more of 'em. Come over 'n' fill y'r pockets. 

Car. All right, thanks — I will. Maybe I'll bring a basket. 
And Bella Ann — how do you do ? 

{She crosses to r. Bella comes down from porch, wipes 
hand on apron and shakes hands with her, looking her 
over with great interest.) 

Bella. Well, thank y\ My, but that's a nice dress you 
got on. Made t* order ? 

Aunt M. Bella Ann ! (Car. smiles good-naturedly ; Bella 
retreats to porch, but pauses there.) Where'd you leave your 
aunt ? Didn't she come ? (Up to gate, looking off to l.) 

Car. Oh, yes. You see, the stage stopped down there in 
front of the post-office and I insisted on getting off and walking 
the rest of the way. It isn't far, and I wanted to stop here and 
see you. Aunt 'Stasia scolded, but I jumped right off. We 
saw Aunt Em, but she wouldn't stop. Said she had some 
errands and would hurry right back. (To Nat.) I wonder 
if you would mind going and helping Aunt Anastasia — Mrs. 
Bannister — with her bags and things, Mr. — er — why, I know 
your name 

Nat. Nathan. 

Bella. Speck. 

Car. Oh, yes, — Mr. Speck. 

Nat. (going up). Sure I will, miss, with pleasure. But 
it's jest Nathan. 

Car. All right, Nathan. (Exit Nat. to l. The others 
are down stage, Bella on porch.) Now tell me, is there any 
news ? Has anything happened ? 

Aunt M. N-no 

Tom. Why, yes — something wonderful has happened. 

Car. Has there ? What is it ? 

Tom. Why — you've come. 

Car. Oh ! Thanks. But I mean — to you ? 

Tom. M'm — that's who it's wonderful to — to me. 

Hez. Tom's gitt'n' spoony. 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 15 

And. Shut up. Ain't you got no sense ? 

Hez. Much 's you hev. Anybuddy 't don't know no more 
about politics 'n you do, 'n' 

And. Huh ! I wouldn't talk. 

Aunt M. For the land's sake, don't get started again, you 
two, 'r else go somewhere else and have it out. They just con- 
fab the whole time, Miss Carlotty. 

And. Wal, he thinks he - 



Hez. He won't give in, even when 

{They go up through gate, pausing r., in earnest discussion, 
but stop as An astasia Bannister enters from l., fol- 
lowed by Nat. with bags, etc. Anas, comes down to c, 
with a haughty air of indignation.} 

Car. Oh, here's Aunt Anastasia now. 

Anas. I must say, Carlotta, your behavior is most perverse 
and unbecoming. Why did you persist in alighting from the 
conveyance so precipitately? I am greatly perturbed 

Car. Please forgive me, Aunt Anastasia, but I was so anx- 
ious to see my friends, and This is Miss Dexter — of 

whom I have told you — and Mr. Tom Dexter, her nephew 

Anas, {merely glancing at Aunt M., then turning, putting 
up her lorgnette and scrutinizing Tom closely). Of whom I 
also have heard. How do you do? 

Tom. I am honored. {Bows politely.) 

Anas, {glancing at him again, haughtily). You — oh, in- 
deed ? VVe shall meet again, Mr. Dexter — soon. {Starts 
up c.) Come, Carlotta. 

Car. But, aunty, here are some other friends of mine. 
Bella Ann — (indicating And. and Hez., who are beyond 
fence) Mr. Dexter — Mr. Hopkins 

Anas, {looking at those pointed out, with a very cold, slight 
acknozvledgment). Come. As your wilfulness has decreed 
that we shall walk the remainder of the distance, let us lose no 
more time. 

{She goes tip and is about to pass through gate, but is inter- 
cepted by Mrs. M., who rushes in from L., carrying sev- 
eral parcels, and pauses up r. Mrs. M. comes down to 
c, Tom and Car. are r. c, Aunt M., l. c. And. and 
Hez. go off to l. renewing discussion. Bella on porch, 
Nat. pauses, back.) 



l6 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Mrs. M. {confronting Anas., who is compelled to pause, 
going partly back down to r. a). Oh, here you are, 'Stasia 

Anas. My name, Mrs. — m'm — Muslin, I believe? — is Mrs. 
Bannister 

Mrs. M. Well, it's 'Stasia, too, ain't it ? 'N' mine's Em. 
You 'n' Carlotty come right along up to the house 'n' I'll git 
y' some supper. Nathan'll carry y'r duds. I s'pose y're 
'most starved? 

Car. I am, Aunt Em, — ravenous — especially when I think 
of all your good things. 

Anas. Carlotta! {To Mrs. M.) We are accustomed to 
dining at about seven o'clock. 

Mrs. M. Dining? I s'pose you mean have dinner. Land, 
we eat dinner at noon 'n' have supper at six. I should think 
eat'n' a full meal at night would give y' the nightmare, 'n' 
everything else. 

Anas. I never suffer from such vulgar ailments. We will 
discuss the arrangement of our meals later, if you please, Mrs. 
Muslin. {To Aunt M.) I will bid you good-afternoon. 
Come, Carlotta. 

{She disdains Tom and the others y holding her head Jugh as 
she goes up. Nat. follows with her bags, etc., with a 
wink at Bella, who goes and looks after them, giggling.') 

Bella. My, but ain't she the stuck-up thing ? 
Aunt M. Bella Ann, you go into that kitchen. 
Bella. Yes, ma'am. 

{She goes up to porch and reluctantly into house, looking back.) 

Mrs. M. Well, so she is. My goodness, she's 's high V 
mighty as the church steeple, 's you might say. But mebbe 
she'll sing a different tune b'fore I git through with her. Land, 
I must be goin'. {Goes up.) Come on, Carlotty. {Ingate.) 

Car. All right, Aunt Em, I'm coming. {Shakes hands 
with Aunt M.) Good-bye, Miss Dexter; I'll see you again, 
real soon. And — Mr. Dexter {Offers him her hand.) 

Tom. Tom 

Car. {blushing). M'm — Tom. 

Tom. And me, too? 

Car. What 

Tom. Soon ? 

Car. Oh, yes, I — I hope so. 



CRANBERRY CORNERS IJ 

Tom. In spite of the — er — dragon ? Excuse me, I- 



Car. Well, she is — kind of — and — yes, — in spite of her, or 
— or anything. 

Tom. Thank you. (Shakes her hand earnestly.} Now 
let the dragon roar. 

Aunt M. Tom ! 

Tom. M'm — of course, I didn't mean that, exactly. 

Car. Why not ? I say so, too — let her ! 

(She gives htm a shy but encouraging glance, and goes off to 
r., looking back, smiling.) 

Aunt M. She's a dear. (She has gone up to porch.) 

Tom. That's what I think. 

Mrs. M. Yes, but 'Stasia — wal, she's about as uppish 's 
they make 'em. {Pauses, struck by a sudden thought, rushes 
to bench or chair, and gathers up articles.) You'll have to ex- 
cuse me — I ain't got a memory an inch long, as y' might say — 
I f rgot I left bread in the oven ! 

(Hurries off c. to r., without looking back. Aunt M. 
laughs and exits to house. Tom smiles, goes up and stands 
c, shaking his head slowly with an expression of tender- 
ness, looking off to R.) 



CURTAIN 



ACT II 

SCENE. — Same as Act I, i?i the forenoon, a few days later. 

{Discover And. and Hez., up beyond fence, pitching quoits 
with old horseshoes. One pitches, then the other, and 
they hasten to see which throw has landed nearer the stake. 
They disagree, as usual, and begin an agitated dispute.) 

And. I got it. That's seven for me. 

Hez. 'Tain't nuther. Can't y' see mine's the closest? 
Makes me eight. 

And. What you talkin' about, Hezekiak Hopkins ? Mine's 
a quarter 'f an inch 

Hez. 'Tain't no sech thing. Look a' there ! 

And. I guess I've got eyes 

( They become very ear?iest in their dispute, both bending over 
the horseshoes, measuring, etc., as Aunt M. enters from 
house to porch, then down c, and up to gate.) 

Aunt M. For the land's sake, what you two up to now? 
Disput'n' again? If you ain't just like two boys. I'd be 
ashamed, if I was you. 

(And. and Hez. rise, coming down to fence, both explaining 
to her.) 

Hez. Wal, Miss Dexter, he said I wa'n't the closest. 

And. So you wa'n't. 

Hez. I was, too ! 

And. You wa'n't nuther ! 

Hez. D' y' mean t' call me a liar ? 

And. Wal, if the coat fits 

Aunt M. Now, you just stop this confabbin' and behave 
yourselves. I never saw two such men. Andrew, it seems to 
me you might better be tending to your work. It ain't noon 
yet. 

And. S' hot, thought I'd quit a little ahead o' time. Most 
noon, anyhow. 

18 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 19 

Aunt M. Oh, that's it? And what about you, Hezekiah 
— ain't you got anything to do? 

Hez. Jest goin' t' the store for Mis' Muslin, t' git her some 
things. Helpin' around up there now, sence she's got them 
big-bugs a-visitin' her. They're some punkins, they be. 

Aunt M. Well, you won't get Mis' Muslin's things hang- 
ing around here. (And. has come down c, goes up to porch.) 
I guess she must be pretty busy. She ain't been over in sev- 
eral days. 

Hez. Guess she is. Keeps her cookin' 'n' fixin' up things 
th' hull time. Says she's gitt'n' sick of it — that stuck-up old 
woman pertend'n' it's a visit V not payin' no board. 

Aunt M. Well, of course, being a relation — though I must 
say it ain't very near. As for Carlotta, she's another story. 
My land ! who's that Tom's bringing? 

{She is c, looking off to l. ; Hez., r. c, And. on porch.) 

Hez. Looks some like a tramp. 

And. Don't want no tramps around here. 

Aunt M. I don't believe it is, exactly. Looks more like 
some poor man that can't hardly walk — sick, I guess. Andrew, 
you go 'n' see. 

And. All right. 

{They are all c, looking off. And. goes and meets Tom, 
who is assisting Ben Latham. The latter is very weak 
and can hardly walk. Tom and And. help him, and he 
sits on bench or edge of porch, the others gathered around. 
Enter Bella to porch, looking on with much interest.) 

Bella. My ! who's that ? What ails him ? 

Tom. Never mind, Bella. Get a glass of water. 

Hez. (to Ben). Sick? 

Ben. Y-yes, I — I haven't been well, and I've walked a long 

ways. It's so hot, and I — I [He is almost overcome. 

Enter Bella with water, which Aunt M. takes and gives him. 
He drinks.) Thank you. It's kind of you — I appreciate it 

Tom. There, there, now, that's all right. Don't you think 
of it. We'll take care of you till you feel better. 

Ben (looking up at Tom, with a faint smile). Thanks, 
young man. You're the right sort. 

And. Of course he is. He's my son. 

Aunt M. And my nephew. 



20 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Ben. Well, you can afford to be proud of him. 

Tom. What we want to do is, get you in the house, 
give you a good meal, and see that you're all fixed up. You'll 
find Cranberry Corners isn't the worst place in the world to 
strike when you're a bit hard up. 

Hez. That's right. {To Ben, curiously.") What's y'r 
name, 'n' where'd y' come from ? 

Ben. I came from — a long ways from here, and my 
name's 

Tom. That doesn't matter now. {Assists him.) Come on. 
That's it. 

Ben. But I don't want you to think I'm a tramp. I may 
have had hard luck, but — I'm not that. 

Aunt M. Why, of course you ain't. You're just one that's 
come along tired out and hungry to let us give you a good meal. 
Dinner's 'most ready, and you can come right in and have 
some. Bella, you go and fix another plate. 

Bella. Y-yes, mum. {Exeunt to house, Tom a?id And. 
assisting Ben, atid followed by Aunt M. ; Bella remains.) 
That's jest like 'em. They'd take in the worst old dog 'tcome 
along 'n' feed him. No say in' who that man is. He may 
murder us. 

Hez. That's right. He does look some like a desp'rate 
character. 

Bella. Good land, do y' think so, Mr. Hopkins? 

{Looks fearfully into door.) 

Hez. D' know but I do. {Goes up.) But I got t' be 
gitt'n' along. Got t' git Mis' Muslin some things. Here 
comes Nathan. 

Enter Nat., l. Hez. goes up through gate to l. 

Bella. I'm 'most afraid of him. 

Hez. Who— Nathan? 

Bella. Huh ! Him ! 

Hez. {going off l.). Hello, Nathan. Got comp'ny in 
there. 

Nat. Have? Who's that? 

Hez. Oh, real han'som feller — new beau of Bella's. 

[ExitL., chuckling. 

Bella. The idee ! I never see the man before till a few 
minutes ago. 

Nat. Who is it, Bella ? 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 21 

Bella. Nobudily but some sort o' tramp 'r other they've 
took in t' feed. He seems t' be kind o' sick. S'pose I'll have 
t' go in 'n' see to the dinner. (Goes up on porch.') 

Nat. M'm — wait a minute, Bella Ann. Been thinkin' over 
what I said to y' any ? 

Bella. Yes, Nathan Speck, 's much 's necessary, 'n' my 
answer's still the same. 

Nat. Better cogitate. You don't git sech a chance every da y. 

Bella. Huh! you needn't flatter y'rself. You ain't nothin' 
but a common hired man at not more'n five dollars a week. 

Nat. Wal, you git three — that's eight — 'n' we both git our 
board. Guess we could get along. 

Bella. Oh, we could ? Well, I still say no. I wouldn't 
marry you if you was the only man on earth. 

Nat. Guess y' wouldn't. 'D have my pick then. But, 
honest, Bella Ann, you're the only woman on earth — for me — 
and I want y' t' be mine. {Goes to her, attempts to put arm 
around her.') Say, Bella, — will y' ? 

Bella. No, I won't. 'N' work harder 'n ever t' help sup- 
port a man. Like t' see myself ! 

Aunt M. {from house, loudly). Bella — Ann ! 

Bella. Yes, mum, I'm a-comin' ! 

Nat. Say, Bella, give us a kiss first. {Near to her.) 

(Bella, as he attempts to embrace her, gives him a sounding 
slap on cheek and runs into house, laughing. He rubs 
cheek. Enter Tom from house, looking back at her laugh- 
ing, as Car. enters from l. She carries a number of 
letters, sealed and addressed, several in business envelopes. 
He comes down ; she greets him smilingly. They are c. , 
Nat. r.) 

Tom (as he and Car. look at Nat., smiling). What's the 
matter, Nathan ? Is the young lady obdurate ? 

Nat. (still rubbing cheek). Guess she is — something like 
that. 'T any rate, she's strong. Gee! (To Car., nodding 
toward Tom.) Hope you don't treat him that way? 

Car. (blushing). Why, no, I— I don't. I — I don't think 
he deserves to be. 

Tom. Thank you. But, after all, Nathan, that was only a 
love tap. 

Nat. Was, eh ? Well, it ain't the kind o' tap I love. Guess 
I'll be goin' in. 'Most dinner time, V I'm hungry. (At 
door.) S'pose they're feed'n' that tramp. [Exit, to house. 



22 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Car. A tramp? 

Tom. No, only a poor, worn-out wanderer who needs a 
good meal and a little rest. I ran across him up the road and 
brought him home with me. Poor fellow, he could hardly 
walk. He looks like a respectable man, too, only in hard luck. 
Nathan, too, seems to be having his troubles. Looks as if 
Bella Ann has him on a string. {Smiles, then very solemn.) 
Excuse me — I mustn't use slang, must I? 

Car. Why not? I just love it. It's such a relief, some- 
times, when you've had to be so proper. I could "reel it 
off" myself "to beat the band/' if it wasn't for Aunt Anas- 
tasia. (Laughs.) There ! — now you're shocked, I know. 

Tom. Not a bit of it. Why, even slang sounds like music 
from your lips 

Car. Now, Mr. Dexter, — you mustn't. It's very pretty — 
but, well, if Aunt Anastasia 

Tom. Oh, I suppose she would faint, hearing anything like 
poetry talked by a plain farmer. Say, to tell the truth, I'm 
getting kind of sick of hearing about Aunt Anastasia. Let's 
drop her for a while, and talk about something else. 

Car. M'm — yes, but Aunt Anastasia isn't the kind it's so 
easy to drop. You see, to use a little more slang, she's "wise" 
to you — to me — that is, I mean to us — that I see you some- 
times, and — and — well, the truth of it is, she has told me I 
mustn't. 

Tom. But I don't see how you're going to help it — or she, 

either. You see (Abruptly changes subject.) What a 

lot of mail you got. 

Car. (looking at letters). Yes, such as they are. Bills, 

mostly. One — two — three But I mustn't reveal family 

secrets, must I? I don't know what Aunt Anastasia would 
say. 

Tom. Aunt Anastasia again ! 

Car. Yes, I know ; you get tired of hearing about her. 
But, you see, I am indebted to her for a great deal — for almost 
everything — and I owe her my obedience. 

Tom. But you owe yourself something, too. She has no 
right to interfere where your life's happiness is concerned. 
She is trying to separate us, to keep us apart. That is why she 
came here. Are we going to let her do it, Carlotta? 

Car. I am afraid we must. Oh, if you only knew how 
hard it is for me ! 

Tom. I do know, dear. It is hard for me, too. But if you 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 23 

say you love me, I don't care what she says, thinks or does, 
and why should you ? You have a right to choose for yourself. 

{They have come down to c. He is about to embrace her, 
but she draws back ; not coldly, but as if afraid to submit,) 

Car. I have — I — I — have chosen. 

Tom. You — you mean— me ? 

Car. {botuing her head). No. 

Tom. But I say it shall not be. She shall not make you 
do such a terrible thing. It is me you love, Carlotta — not 
another. You told me last summer — you promised then to be 
mine — and now — now your eyes, your whole being says the 
same, even if your lips say " another.' ' 

Car. No, no, you mustn't think that. You must believe 

me. I have promised, I {She stands so as to see Ben, 

who now enters from house, his gaze fixed upon her face. He 
seems strangely affected. She regards him with surprise.) 
Why — who 

(Tom turns and sees Ben. Goes to him.) 

Tom. Are you feeling better ? 

Ben {still staring at Car.). Who — who is that ? 

Tom. Never mind. Go in the house now, get some rest, 
and later we will talk things over. {To Car.) He has been 
ill. We're going to brace him up and then set him to work in 
the cranberry fields. 

Ben {looking back). But I — she 

Tom. There now, never mind. You mustn't stare at a 
lady that way, you know. Come. {Urges him up steps.) 

Ben. Yes, yes ; I know. I hope the — young — lady — will 
forgive me. 

Car. Certainly. I suppose you saw a fancied resemblance 
to some one else. 

Ben. Yes, to some one else — to one who is dead. I meant 
no harm. I hope you will pardon me. 

{Tom puts him in house, then returns!) 

Tom. Poor fellow. He was almost exhausted when he 
came here a little while ago. He seems to have been ill. 
Doesn't seem exactly right. A little "off," I imagine. 

Car. I dare say that is it. Certainly he never sa w me 



24 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

before. {Goes up.) I must be getting along, or Aunt Anas- 
tasia will be sending for me. Really, it's a wonder she let me 
walk down to the post-office alone, for fear I should meet you. 

Tom. Which you did — praise be. 

Car. I suppose it isn't right to deceive her so, but I can't 
see what right she has to choose my friends for me. {Looks 
off to r.) There — see — here comes Aunt Em. I'll bet I 
have been sent for, after all. 

Tom. Well, what if you have? I will protect you — now 
and forever, if you'll let me. 

(She looks at him blushingly, and he is about to take her 
hand, but Mrs. M. rushes in from r. and they separate.) 

Mrs. M. Oh, here you are, Carlotty. Your Aunt 'Stasia's 
in an awful fret, wondering what's become of y\ She's on her 
high horse this morning, so I guess you'd better not let her 
know you've been walkin' with Tom. Not that I blame y', 
but y' know when she gets on a tantrum. Seems she expects 
some news or somethin' — won't tell me what — and is all worked 
up over it. 

Car. I will go at once. Perhaps one of these letters is 
what she expects. I should not have been so long about 
taking them to her. (Goes through gate.) 

Tom. May I come too ? 

Car. M'm — just a little ways, perhaps. Till the bend in 
the road, that's all. 

Tom. Well, that will have to do then. Small favors thank- 
fully received, you know. 

(They go off R. together, laughing. Mrs. M. goes to porch 
and looks into house. Knocks.) 

Mrs. M. (looking in door, curiously). I wonder who that 
is? Some man. I didn't know they had comp'ny. 

Enter Bella; pauses on porch ; Mrs. M. down to r. c. 

Bella. Oh, that you, Mis' Muslin ? 

Mrs. M. Yes, Bella Ann, what they is left of me. I'm 
mighty nigh worn to a frazzle, as you might say. Can I see 
Miss Dexter a minute ? 

Bella. I guess so. She's just got through eat'n'. I'll tell 
her. (Goes to door.) 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 2$ 

Mrs. M. All right, I wish you would. Say, Bella, who's 
that strange man in there — comp'ny ? 

Bella. Land, no, 'tain't comp'ny. Some tramp they took 
in t' feed. 

Mrs. M. Oh, that's it ? Huh ! Got a female tramp I 
took in t' feed up t' my house, y' might call her. 

Bella. Who? Oh! Huh, I guess she's a pretty grand 
one. {Laughs and exits to house.) 

Mrs. M. Grand ? Depends on what y' call grand. I call 
it spongin'. 

(She goes to c. After slight pause, enter Aunt M., from 
house; comes down.) 

Aunt M. How d' do, Mrs. Muslin ? You're a stranger. 
You haven't been over in quite a spell. 

Mrs. M. 'Tvva'n't 'cause I didn't want t'. I've been that 
rushed. Wouldn't be here now, only I sent Hezekiar to the 
store for some things 'n' he forgot half of 'em. If you can lend 
me a little ginger and some raisins — just a few — it'll save me 
traipsin' all the way to the store. 'N* a little cinnymon. 

Aunt M. All right. I'll tell Bella Ann. {Goes and calls.) 
Bella Ann ! 

Mrs. M. {looking toward door). Who's that man in there ? 
Didn't know y' had comp'ny. 

Aunt M. He ain't company. Just some poor man that 
come along, we're givin' a meal. {Enter Bella.) Bella Ann, 
you get Mrs. Muslin a little ginger, a few raisins and — what 
else? 

Mrs. M. Some cinnymon. Just a pinch. I want t' make 
a cake. 

Bella. Take the cake, I call it. 

Aunt M. What's that? 

Bella. Nothin'. I said all right. Cinnymon — raisins 

[Exit to house, muttering to herself. 

Aunt M. Sometimes she gets awful impudent, but she's a 
good girl after all, so I sort of overlook it. 

Mrs. M. I guess y' have t', it's such a job t' keep a girl. 
Sallie Patchin never come, 'n' I declare, I'm jest about crazy. 
That woman keeps me on the jump, want'n' this 'n' that 'n' 
the other thing. If it wa'n't for Carlotty I guess I'd go plumb 
crazy. Hezekiah Hopkins pertends t' help, but he ain't a mite 
o' good. Jest pesters me t' marry 'im. 



26 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Aunt M. Hezekiah does ? 

Mrs. M. Yts. Seemed t' come to him all of a sudden like. 
Says a widower V a widow like us ought t' hitch up 'n' carry 
life's load t'gether. Did y' ever hear the beat ? I told him I 
guessed the load 'd all be on my shoulders. Hezekiah Hop- 
kins ! Huh ! Sent him t' that store an hour ago, V he ain't 
come yet. Might 's well marry a hitchin'-post, 's you might 
say. 

Aunt M. Well, a good hitchin'-post is sometimes worth 
tying up to. Hezekiah has been anxious t' get married for 
some time. I told him — that is — I suppose lie is lonely 

Mrs. M. Oh, he's asked you, too, has he? I ain't s'prised. 
My sakes, he'd take up with anything. 

Aunt M. Thanks. 

Mrs. M. Oh — excuse me — I didn't mean it that way. I 
meant — I hope you don't think, Miss Dexter 

Aunt M. No, of course I don't. Land, Mrs. Muslin, I 
ain't that touchy. (Sees off to r.) Here he comes now. 

Enter Hez., from l., with a few packages. 

Mrs. M. Wal, Hezekiah Hopkins, where you been all this 
time? If you ain't the slowest mortal. I had t' come V look 
for y\ 

Hez. (coming to a). Wal, y* know, my rheumatiz is s* 
bad 

Mrs. M. Huh ! I guess your laziness is worse. Anyhow, 
your rheumatiz don't prevent y'r pitchin' "quates" 'r arg'yin' 
politics. Does it, Miss Dexter? 

Aunt M. No, I guess it don't. 

Hez. Guess I'll be gitt'n' along up to the house with these 
things. 

Mrs. M. I guess you'd better. I'll be right along. 

Enter And. from house. 

And. (coming down). Hello, Hezekiar. Got time for a 
game o' "quates " ? 

Hez. (hesitating). Don't think I hev. 

Mrs. M. No, I guess you ain't. Land sakes, I guess they's 
work t' do. All them dinner dishes t' do up, 'n' cake t' 
make. 

And. (down to c, up to gate, by Hez.). Oh, doin' house- 
work now, be y', Hezekiar? Pretty work f'r a good Repub- 
lican 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 27 



Hez. Wal, I guess the Democrats 

{They begin confabbing, as before, but Mks. M. and Aunt 
M. go up and separate them. At the same time, Tom en- 
ters from R.) 

Aunt M. That'll do, now. 
Mrs. M. If you two men ain't the worst. 
Tom. What's this— at it again? You'd better let up. 
Look up the road there, and see who's coming. 

{All look off to R.) 

Mrs. M. Mercy me, it's Anastasia ! Comin' here. 

Aunt M. My land, is she? 

And. Somethin's in the wind. 

Hez. Whew ! Full sail, too. 

Tom. Yes. You see, I walked a ways with Carlotta, and 
just around the bend in the road we met — her. The fact is, 
we have been having a — well, just a little argument — and as 
she rather assailed me, and Carlotta took my part, why, it got 
a little breezy. 

Aunt M. Tom, you ought to know better. You're just 
making it hard for Carlotta. 

Tom. Sorry. But I guess she's old enough to know her own 
mind. 

Mrs. M. Yes, and I'm old enough t' speak mine, if neces- 
sary. I guess I'm her aunt, too, and if 'Stasia Bannister thinks 
she's the whole thing — well, mebbe she'll find out her mistake. 

And. Better not monkey with the buzz-saw. 

Aunt M. Andrew, I'm surprised ! 

Hez. Buzz-saw? Hull sawmill, I call her. 

Enter Bella to porch, with articles. At the same time, Anas. 
enters c.,from r., haughtily, pausing in gate. All stand 
back, with the exception of Mrs. M., who is up l. c. ; 
Aunt M., r. c. ; Tom, r. ; Hez., l., and Bella on 
porch. As Anas, begins speaking, Car. enters r., a?id 
stands back, at first unnoticed. 

Mrs. M. Wal, 'Stasia, you're here, be y* ? Thought you 
was goin' t' lay down and take a nap. 

Anas. I have other things to do besides taking naps, Mrs. 
Muslin. In fact, I find it necessary to be very wide-awake ? in 
order to look after the welfare of my niece. 



28 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Mrs. M. My niece, too, ain't she? I guess she ain't in s* 
very much danger. What you on the track of now? 

Anas. I am "on the track/' as you are pleased to call it, 
of something that must be put an end to — something of which 
I by no means approve. That, however, does not concern all 
these people. {Looks around, her gaze resting on Tom.) It 
does, however, concern this young man, and it is to him I wish 
to speak. If his parents wish to hear what I have to say {look- 
ing first at Hez., and then at Aunt M.), I shall have no ob- 
jection. 

Hez. (chuckling). Guess you're on the wrong tack there, 
ma'am. 

Aunt M. I am his aunt, Mrs. Bannister. His father is in 
the house, if you wish to see him. But Tom's of age, and 
capable of looking after his own affairs, I reckon. 

Tom {coming forward). Yes, Mrs. Bannister, quite. If 
you wish to say anything to me, I am at your service. 

Anas. 1 do, if you will grant me that privilege. Alone, 
however. 

Tom. Very well. I am sure we can make it convenient. 

( The others make movements to go, with the exception of 
Car. , who has not yet been noticed. At this point Bella 
comes down, crosses directly in front of An as., and goes 
to Mrs. M., offering her articles.) 

Bella. Here's them things you wanted, Mis' Muslin. 
Mustard — cinnymon (She stares at Anas.) 

Anas. Who is this person ? 

Bella. Person? I ain't a person, mum, I'm a respectable 
girl, even if I do have t' work out, 'n' 

Aunt M. Bella Ann, that will do. You go in the house. 

Bella (Mrs. M. having taken the articles ; crossing back 
and going to porch). Yes, mum, I'm a-goin'. But I ain't 
goin' t' let no stuck-up city thing call me a " person " 

Aunt M. Bella Ann ! 

(Anas, looks at Bella through her lorgnette indignantly. 
Hez. chuckles to himself, Mrs. M. looks amused and grati- 
fied, Tom smiles faintly. Exit Bella to house, mutter- 
ing to herself .) 

Mrs. M. (going up). Come on, Hezekiar, we'll be goin* 
on home, 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 2() 

Hez. All right, Mis' Cotton. {Follows her.) 

Mrs. M. Hezekiar Hopkins, my name ain't "Cotton/ 1 V 
you know it. 

Hez. Meant Muslin. Knew 'twas some kind o' cloth. 
(Goes up through gate, ahead of Mrs. M.) Mebbe it'll be 
Hopkins some day. 

Mrs. M. The idee ! I guess it won't. {Follows him, sees 
Car.) Why, Carlotty, you here? 

(The others now look at Car., who advances toward c.) 

Anas. Carlotta, why are you here ? I told you to return 
to the house and to your room. Why did you not obey me? 

Car. I am not a child, Aunt Anastasia, to be sent to my 
room. 

Anas. Indeed I We shall see. (Steps in front of Tom, 
who is about to go near Car.) I wish you to obey me, and I 
think you will find it best to do so. (Turns to Tom.) Will 
you be kind enough, Mr. — Dexter, is it? — to grant me an in- 
terview, in private? 

Tom. Certainly. (Gets around her and goes to Car., who 
smiles on him.) Good-bye, Car — m'm — Miss Bannister. 

(They shake hands.) 

Car. Good-bye, T-To-m — Mr. Dexter. See you — m'm — 
"later ! " 

(Glances sideways at Anas., mischievously, as she goes l.) 

Mrs. M. Come, Carlotty. {Goes r.) You, too, Hezekiar. 

Hez. (following). All right — Emma. 

Mrs. M. Emma? Wal, if you ain't gitt'n' familiar. 

Hez. What about your callin' me Hezekiar? Eh, Mrs. 
Calico — I mean Muslin ? 

Mrs. M. Of all things! (To the others, looking back.) 
But, you know, he ain't worth noticin'. Got jest about as 
much sense as a — a hoptoad, as y' might say. 

(She exits to r., followed by Hez., who chuckles, nodding 
his head toward Mrs. M., and winking at Tom. Car. 
goes off l. u. e. Tom is in gate c. ; Aunt M. by porch ; 
Anas., highly indignant at what is taking place, and dis- 
dainful of the others, stands down l.) 

Aunt M. I think she kind p' likes Hezekiah, after all, and 



3° 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 



I wouldn't be a bit surprised if she made up her mind t' have 
him. {Comes to c, talking to Anas, animatedly.*) Well, 1 
don't know but he'd make her a good husband. Of course, 

Hezekiah ain't got any too much gumption, and (Anas. 

turns and regards her with a withering look.) Oh, I beg your 
pardon. I s'pose you ain't interested. If you'll excuse me 

( Goes toward house.') 

Anas. With pleasure, I am sure. 

AuntM. {up steps to porch). Thanks. {In door.) Mebbe 
you'd like a glass of water — or buttermilk? If you would, I'll 
send you out some. 

Anas. You are very kind, but I have no desire to indulge 
in any such beverage. 

Aunt M. Land, buttermilk ain't a beverage — I jest thought 
— but of course [Exit to house. 

(Anas. , with a proud look a?id a sigh of relief, now turns 
to Tom, whom she regards through her lorgnette. She is 
c. ; he has gone to R. c.) 

Anas. So ! We are alone at last, Mr. — Mr. — Dexter? 

Tom. Yes, madam, that is my name. 

Anas. Very well. I trust you will pardon the lack of for- 
mality which has caused me to seek you out thus, but — well, 
I thought it best to make you acquainted with certain facts, and 
prevent future misunderstandings and no doubt much disap- 
pointment on your part. 

Tom. That's kind of you, I am sure. 

Anas. Let us hope you will still think so when I have done. 
I shall come to the point at once. I believe, Mr. Dexter, that 
you have been entertaining some hopes in regards to my niece. 
1 wish to inform you that such hopes are entirely futile — that I 
have come here to put an end to anything of the sort between 
you and her. 

Tom. M'm — well, Mrs. Bannister, I must say that is — er 
— coming to the point, and no mistake. Seeing you have set 
the example, perhaps I may claim the same privilege. I may 
have hopes in the direction which you name, and if I have — 
why, I don't intend to relinquish those hopes until absolutely 
compelled to do so. 

Anas. Indeed ! Then I shall compel you. I think one 
statement will be sufficient, and that is — my niece, Carlotta 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 31 

Bannister, is engaged to be married to another man. There- 
fore, your suit is quite impossible. 

Tom. That, I believe, is a question for Miss Carlotta Ban- 
nister herself to decide 

Anas. Sir ! the question already is decided. If my niece 
has deceived you she must pay for that deception with the loss 
of your confidence. It is to spare her that I have taken the lib- 
erty of informing you of the circumstance. After the flirtation 
between you when she was here a year ago, and which I sup- 
posed I had broken off by forbidding all correspondence be- 
tween you since that time, I thought nothing more was neces- 
sary. Wilfully, however, she insisted upon coming here again 
and trying to make it right with you, therefore I insisted upon 
coming with her. That is why I am here. I am afraid, Mr. 
Dexter, that my niece has been a bit of a flirt — that she has 
simply had a little amusement out of what she considered a 
passing flirtation with a country admirer, and that — excuse me 
if I speak plainly — it would be wiser for you to seek a life's com- 
panion in your own sphere. (Starts up c.) I think, sir, that 
further conversation between us is quite unnecessary. 

Tom (a, barring her way). Pardon me, but may I ask 
what you mean by my " sphere " ? 

Anas. Why — er — of course, I meant to convey no impres- 
sion of belittlementc But, you see, my niece has been reared 
in wealth and refinement — she is fitted for a position far above 
that of a farmer's wife. Such a union could but mean failure 
— unhappiness 

Tom. No. A union of true hearts, which beat alone for 
each other — where love is supreme — cannot mean failure, un- 
happiness. That condition comes from a union such as you 
wish your niece to make — with a man whom she does not love, 
for the purposes of wealth and position, as you call it. That 
is the kind of union that means failure, Mrs. Bannister. 

Anas, (somewhat taken aback by his language and demeanor, 
looking at him through lorgnette). Why, I declare, Mr. Dex-. 
ter, you are quite — m'm — poetic, for — for 

Tom. A farmer, madam ? Yes. But even a farmer may 
have a poetic soul, and — let us say — a heart. Is it not true ? 

Anas. Why, yes, — of course. 

Tom. Thank you. I admit I am a farmer — and proud of 
it. My father is a farmer, so was my grandfather. Farming, 
Mrs. Bannister, sometimes pays. It has paid with us. I have 
had a fair education, I have traveled — some — I have read books. 



32 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Still, I am a farmer, not a society man. Again, I am not 
ashamed of that fact. 

Anas. To be sure, Mr. Bannister, I — I meant to imply no 
sense of disparagement. I have no doubt you are an estimable 
young man. I dare say you are. But all this is beside the 
question. As my niece is to marry another man, no matter 
how worthy you may be, all communication between you and 
her must cease. We shall leave this place soon, and that will 
end the matter. 

(She is r. c, he c. He now crosses to house, she to c.) 

Tom. Then, if you have accomplished that for which you 
came, there is no more to be said. I will bid you good-after- 
noon. 

{He bows politely and exits to house. She looks after him 
nonplussed. Then turns, about to go out c.) 

Anas. Well, of all things ! I must say — and a farmer 

{Enter Ben from house, or r., beyond house. Anas, hears 
him, turns. They stand looking at each other an instant, he 
calmly, she at first incredulous, then almost overcome with ter- 
ror.) You ! — you, — here ! 

{She reels, almost falling, grasping fence for support.) 

Ben. Yes, Anastasia Bannister. You seem surprised to 
see me. 

Anas. I — I did not know — I thought Where — where 

did you come from ? 

Ben. From a prison cell. From fifteen long years of hell 
on earth. 

Anas, {somewhat recovering her composure, but still weak 
from dismay and fright). But how — when I thought 

Ben. You thought it was a life sentence. So it was. But 
there is a kind Providence, which I had doubted during the 
long years I, an innocent man, suffered the penalty of another's 
crime. But at last that Providence intervened 

Anas. You mean 

Ben. I mean that I am free, because I am innocent. The 
Providence that helped me gain that freedom has helped me 
find you. It led me here — a wanderer — a "tramp" some of 
them called me — but I have come to my reward, I have found 
you — you and 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 33 

Anas. Yes, yes, Frederick — yes, you have found me, but 
— but now that you have, what do you intend to do ? What 
do you want ? 

Ben {close to her, with emphasis, looking straight into her 
eyes). Want, Anastasia Bannister? What do I want? You 
know what I want. My rights, and — my daughter ! 

Anas. No ! No ! Surely, Frederick Bannister, you would 
never weigh your child down with the knowledge of your shame. 
Think what it would mean to her — the disgrace, the humilia- 
tion. And she is engaged to be married to one who can keep 
her in the station to which she has been accustomed. No, no, 
you could never tell her now. She thinks you were an honor- 
able man — that you are dead 

Ben. How dare you say that, Anastasia Bannister, that she 
" thinks " I was an honorable man ? So I was — and am. You 
are not the one to talk about honor — to cast a slur upon me ; 
you, who were the cause of my misery, my " shame* ' as you 
call it. No, I will not keep silent. I will tell her, and let her 
decide between us. 

Anas. You shall not ! It shall not be done, this cruel thing. 

Ben. We shall see. She is here. I saw her, on this very 
spot, not an hour ago. Now I am going to look for her — to 
tell her 

{He starts to go out c, but she, alarmed and desperate, bars 
his way and prevents his going. He is weak, and as he 
attempts to pass her she seizes him and he totters, almost 
falling. At this moment Tom enters from house, to porch, 
stands looking on, and at the same time Car. enters L., 
pausing in surprise at what she sees. Anas., seeing Tom, 
attempts to coticeal her emotion ; Ben stands silent. ) 

Anas, (to Tom). This poor man appears to be ill. He 
seemed about to faint, and I was just in time to assist him. 

Tom. Thank you. I will see that he has the needed at- 
tention. 

(He goes down, assisting Ben, who has caught sight of Car., 
fixing his gaze upon her. Anas, now also sees Car., and, 
hiding her alarm, goes to her and leads her off R., engag- 
ing her attention. As they go out, Car. looks back, puz- 
zled, at Ben, who stands by porch piteous ly looking at her 
as Tom urges him into house.) 

CURTAIN 



ACT III 

SCENE. — Handsomely furnished par lor in New York home of 
Mrs. Bannister. Elegant furniture, pictures, hangings, etc. 
It is about six o'clock in the evening, three months after the 
close of second act. 

(As curtain rises, bell rings ; Florine, the maid, enters 
from r., crosses to c. D., and exits to L. After pause, re- 
turns, followed by Sidney Everett. She has his coat and 
hat ; he removes gloves a nd gives them to her.) 

Sid. Is Mrs. Bannister at home? 
Flo. Yes, sir. She is dressing for dinner. 

Sid. Miss Bannister also? 

Flo. Yes. They should be down at any moment now. It 
is after six, and dinner is at seven. 

Sid. Very well. Bring me an evening paper, please. 
Flo. Very well, sir. [Exit, c. d. l. 

(Sid. stands r. c, a set, determined look upon his face. 
Murmurs, "She shall/" then closes lips tightly.) 

Enter Flo., with paper. 

Sid. {taking paper, opens it ; exit Flo., c. d. r. ; Sid. 
finds in paper what he has sought). Yes — sails at noon 
Wednesday. This is Thursday. Good. 

(He sits and reads. After pause, enter Anas., C. d. r., 
in elaborate di?iner gown. He rises.) 

Anas. Ah, Mr. Everett, you are punctual. Pardon me if 
I have kept you waiting. Carlotta and I were down-town shop- 
ping this afternoon, and were detained. 

Sid. Buying wedding finery ? (He smiles ; she looks dis- 
tressed.) Well, there is none too much time to arrange things. 
We sail at noon next Wednesday. 

Anas, (startled). You mean — next Wednesday? Why, 
that is less than a week. Surely, you do not expect 

Sid. I expect the wedding, Mrs. Bannister, to take place 

34 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 35 

before the sailing time, next Wednesday at twelve o'clock, noon. 
That, it strikes me, is quite time enough for the informal cere- 
mony that is all we need to have. 

Anas. But — you cannot get a stateroom — it is so sudden — 
I am afraid Carlotta 

Sid. I shall arrange everything satisfactorily, so far as the 
voyage is concerned. It will be your place to see that we are 
not detained. 

Anas. It will be difficult to explain. Surely, another 
month — a few weeks- 

Sid. Say that I was compelled to be in London sooner than 
expected, hence the haste. As for Carlotta — why, you can 
convince her that it would be — best. 

Anas. She will accede to my wishes, I have no doubt. 
However, I fail to see why it is necessary to compel her to sub- 
mit to so unreasonable a demand. 

Sid. {smiling unpleasantly). "Compel her to submit " is 
not exactly a pleasant term, Mrs. Bannister. Am I to have so 
reluctant a bride ? 

Anas. You know very well how the matter stands, Mr. 
Everett, and I see no reason why there should be any pretences 
between us. I have "compelled " — there is no other word — 
my niece to consent to marry you, and you are willing to ac- 
cept her hand, knowing that her choice lies not with you. The 
circumstances we need not further discuss. I am in your 
power, my niece submits to my coercion, therefore you have 
your will. However, I cannot consent to such unbecoming 
haste. That the wedding should take place in less than a week 
from now is unreasonable — impossible 

Sid. Nevertheless, it can take place within that time — and 
it must. If you do not wish your niece to know that her father 
is living, and that you 

Anas. You know that is all that makes me consent to further 
your wishes — the awful fear that Carlotta shall learn of the ex- 
istence of her father and the disgrace which he brought upon 
our name — but — well, there are moments, Mr. Sidney Everett, 
when I have a mind to defy you and let you do your worst. 
You would not tell her — no, you would never show your hand 
in that way and lose what you consider your hold upon me. 

Sid. You think so ? Try me. Refuse to do just what I 
wish, and see what the consequences will be. It will do you 
no good to bluff, as you know, for if Frederick Bannister is 
cleared of the stigma that is upon his name — as I can clear him 



36 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

— you know to whom the burden of disgrace will be transferred. 
The matter is quite in your hands, my dear Mrs. Bannister. 
Do as you please — only — well, suffer the consequences. 

(He is r. c, she c. She now goes up. He stands calmly, 
with a complacent smile.} 

Anas. You are a man without a heart — without principle — 
and yet I am compelled to give my niece to you to — to 
save 

{She goes up, about to exit a, but the bell has rung during 
her last speech, and in door she meets Flo.) 

Flo. There are visitors, Mrs. Bannister. A gentleman and 
a lady. 

Anas. Gentleman and lady — at this hour ? 

Flo. At least a — a man and woman, Mrs. Bannister. 
Rather queer looking, if you will pardon my saying so. 

Anas. Did they send up cards ? 

Flo. N-no, Mrs. Bannister. They — they do not seem to 
be that kind. They — in fact, I should say they are from the 
country, ma'am. 

Anas. From the country ? Can it be (Goes r.) I 

cannot see them. Ask them to — to call again. Say I am not 
at home — anything, so that you are rid of them. [Exit, r. 

Sid. Who are these unwelcome guests, Florine? I am 
curious. 

Flo. I don't know, sir. I (Mrs. M. rushes in c. d. 

from l., followed by Hez. She pauses as Flo. steps up to her.*) 
I think, if you please, madam 

{They have bags, bundles, umbrellas, etc.) 

Mrs. M. {laughing). " Madam ! " Listen t' that, Heze- 
kiah, she called me " Madam." Ain't I gitt'n' up in the 
world? {To Flo.) You needn't bother t' say " Madam." 
I'm Mrs. Hezekiah Hopkins. We was married a week ago, at 
Cranberry Corners — had a fine wedd'n', if I do say so — V have 
come t' New York on our trip. Thought we'd drop in V 
make a little visit here, though y' don't have t' tell me Anas- 
tasia Bannister won't be overjoyed t' see us. Land, I guess she 
stayed at our house last summer long enough without paying no 
board t' keep me 'n' Hezekiar a few days. B'sides, I knew 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 37 

Carlotty'd be glad t' see us, V that's enough for me. {No- 
tices Sid., who has stood back, 7iow coming toward c.) Oh, 
who's that? Never noticed y'. 

Flo. Mr. Everett, madam. 

Mrs. M. Everett? Boardin' here? 

Sid. (smiling, with a bow of somewhat exaggerated polite- 
ness). No, madam — Mrs. — m'm — Hopkins ? A caller, merely, 
like yourself. 

Mrs. M. Caller? Land, we're goin' V make more 'n a 
call — regular visit, as y' might say. I reckon we'll stay two *r 
three days. Hezekiah ain't never been t' New York b'fore, V 
I want t' show him all the sights. 

Hez. (who has been looking curiously at things about room, 
examining furniture, etc. ; now coming to a). Yes. Em, 
havin' been here herself once, on an excursion, knows some- 
thin' about it, V we intend t' take in the hull place. Don't 
mean t' miss a thing wuth seein'. 

Sid. Indeed ? Then I think several days will not be at all 
too long. 

Hez. No, I reckon it won't. I want V see the batterin'- 
rams down to the Battery, all them other animals I've heard 
tell about up t' that Zoology, get a meal at some bang-up eatin* 
place where it costs as much as fifty cents, 'n' go to some good 
shows. 

Mrs. M. Shows? 

Hez. You bet. Good ones, too — frisky. None o* y'r 
church sociable kind. 

Mrs. M. Why, Hezekiah Hopkins — V you a good Meth- 
odist ! 

Hez. Don't care 'f I be. Needn't think I come t' New 
York t' go t' Sunday-school. Take you along, 'f y' want t' go. 
Want t' see a ballet with a lot o' women in it. 

(Pronounces "ballet" as spelled.) 

Mrs. M. Land, is this where they let the women vote ? 

Sid. (very much amused, in a superior, supercilious sort of 
way). He means a dance, Mrs. Hopkins— very risque. 

Mrs. M. Yes, I guess it will be risky, if I ketch him goin' 
to it. The idee. (To Flo., who still stands up c, with 
things.) Guess you might 's well show us up to our room. 
(Starts.) Come on, Hezekiah. 

Flo. But — madam — I — I do not know which room — I 
think, if you please, it will be necessary to wait — — 



38 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Mrs. M. I guess it won't. Just put us in the spare-room 
V done with it. 

Flo. But — pardon me, but there are several — the blue 
room, the pink room 

Hez. Blue 'n' pink? Not f'r us. Put us in the red, 
white V blue. 

Mrs. M. I guess it don't make much difference what color 
'tis. Mean t' say you've got more'n one spare-room ? 

Flo. Yes, madam — we have several guest rooms. 

Mrs. M. Don't say " Madam." I ain't a milliner 'n' I 
don't give dancin' lessons. My name's Mis' Hopkins. 

Sid. I think, Florine, you might show Mr. and Mrs. Hop- 
kins into the drawing-room for the present. 

Hez. Drawin'-room? Oh, I s'pose that's where Carlotty 
takes her drawin' lessons. 

Flo. Yes, sir. (To Hez. and Mrs. M.) Will you come 
this way, please ? 

Hez. To the drawin'-room? (Chuckles.) Sure. 

Mrs. M. Drawin'-room? The idee. We got one, but all 
it draws is flies. Even screens 

(Exit Flo., c. d. to r., with things, followed by Hez., who 
looks back at Sid., smiling cordially. Mrs. M. also 
goes up.) 

Hez. See y' later, Mister Everett. (Struck by a sudden 
thought, comes down to Sid.) Say, be you a Republican 'r a 
Democrat ? 

Mrs. M. (shitting him off ; to Sid.). Don't you tell him. 
He jest wants t' git into an argyment, 'n' once y' get at it, he'll 
never let up. (Goes to c. d.) Come on, Hezekiah. You'll 
have t' git washed up b'fore supper. 

Hez. All right, I'm a-comin'. (To Sid., as he goes up.) 
Pitch quates ? 

Sid. (puzzled, smiling). N-no, I think not. 

Hez. Don't? D' know what y've missed. Now, Andrew 
Dexter 'n' me — that's Tom's father Ever met Tom? 

Sid. No, I have never had that pleasure. 

Hez. So 'twould be. Tom's a fine feller. Well off, too. 
Owns acres o' fine cranberry meaders. That's why it's called 
" Cranberry Corners " — fields of 'em, 'n' all Tom's. Him 'n' 
Carlotty 

Mrs. M. Hezekiah Hopkins, you stop that gabbin' V 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 39 

come on with me. Land, talk about women ! You a regular 
talkin'-machine, as y' might say. 

Hez. (as he goes up). Wal, I was jest a-goin' t' tell 
him 

Mrs. M. 'Tain't necessary. You go on. (She urges him 
off R., he looking back with a nod at Sid. She comes back 
down to c.) Didn't you never hear Carlotty speak of Tom 
Dexter ? 

(Hez. leaves bag up stage.) 

Sid. N-no, I don't recall that I ever have. 

Mrs. M. Wal, he's as fine a feller as ever lived, if he is 
from the country. I'd stake him against any of y'r primped-up 
city men. Carlotty would too. It's Tom she'd marry, only 
'Stasia's got it in her head she's got t* marry some rich city 
big-bug — for his money, I s'pose. But, land, I guess I hadn't 
ought t' talk family matters to a perfect stranger. Mebbe y' 
ain't, though? 

Sid. M'm — well, hardly, since — I happen to be the man 
whom Miss Carlotta Bannister is to marry. 

Mrs. M. Y' don't say ? (Looks him over critically.) Must 
be some reason. Y' needn't tell me Carlotty'd ever marry you 
from choice. 

(Sid. smiles sarcastically, as if she were beneath his notice.) 

Hez. (putting head in c. d.). Come on, Em ! (Disappears.) 
Mrs. M. Yes, I'm a-comin'. (Goes up.) I must say, it 

seems t' me (Comes back, close to Sid., squinting her 

eyes at him quizzically.) Say, what's y'r object? 
Sid. (pompously). Madam ! 

Mrs. M. Oh, you can't scare me with y'r " Madam " ! 
Carlotty Bannister is my niece jest as much as she is anybody 
else's, 'n' I know a thing 'r two about her feelin's. U she 
marries you it won't be for love, but b'cause she's made to, V 
I must say you're a pretty slimpsy sort of a critter if you take 
her when you know she's in love with another man. 
Hez. (head in door). Em! (Disappears.) 
Mus. M. (going up). Y-e-s, I'm a-comin'! (To Sid., 
pausing c. D.) I may be from the country, but I can see 
through a barn door when it's wide open, V if I don't get 
to the bottom o' this my name ain't Em Muslin — I mean Hop- 
kins ! 



40 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

( Gives him a knowing look and exits c. D. R. Sid. looks 
after her, smiling disdainfully ; sits by table, reads paper. 
Enter Car., r., in evening dress. She is rather pale. 
Sid. does not at first see her. She stands regarding him 
with a?i expression of repugnance. He looks up a?id sees 
her a?id she smiles faintly.) 

Sid. (rising, going toward her). I am so glad you have 
come. I wished to see you — to speak to you — alone. 

Car. {instinctively drawing away from him). Well, I am 
here. 

Sid. Yes ; but why do you receive me so coldly ? I have 
a right to expect more than this from one who is so soon to be 
my wife. {She does not look at him, seeming to avoid his 
glance.) I have decided that our marriage shall take place 
next Tuesday, and on Wednesday we are to sail for Europe. 

Car. (turning to him suddenly, in terror). You — you say — 
Tuesday 

Sid. Tuesday. Mrs. Bannister and I have just decided 
upon that date, relying upon your compliance. 

Car. But I cannot possibly be ready by that time. Why, it 
is less than a week — five days. No — no, don't ask me to do it. 

Sid. (with an affectation of tenderness, trying to take her 
hand). But, dear, why wait, if it is my wish? 

Car. (drawing away from him, almost with a shudder). 
No — no — not so soon. You must give me time — to think it 
over — to — to prepare myself. 

Sid. (changing his mood). I have waited — long enough. 
You have consented, your aunt desires it, and there is no occa- 
sion for delay. I must sail for Europe next Wednesday, and I 
wish to take you with me as my wife. 

Car. Then I say you shall not have your wish. True, 
Sidney Everett, I have consented, because I have been forced 
to do so against my will. Why you are willing to make me 
your wife when every thought and every feeling of my nature 
rebels against the sacrifice — yes, sacrifice ! — I do not know. I 
only know that to avert some terrible danger, which seems to 
threaten my aunt, and of which she is mortally afraid, I have 
said that I will ruin my life by giving myself to you. You are 
willing to take me under these circumstances, it seems — for 
some mysterious reason that I do not understand — but when 
you ask me to marry you next Tuesday — in less than a week — 
I refuse. Most emphatically I refuse. 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 41 

Sid. And just as emphatically I say that you shall give 
your consent. 

Car. By what right do you presume to make me submit to 
your will? What is it that threatens this house — my aunt — ■ 
that I must be sacrificed ? 

Sid. See here, I don't like that word "sacrifice." I am 
no ogre, and I don't see that becoming my wife should be such 
a terrible thing. I love you — I want you because I cannot live 
without you. 

Car. Love ! Don't profane the word by letting it fall from 
your lips. 

Sid. Go on. But let me tell you, if I do not have my way, 
it is not only Anastasia Bannister that will suffer. There is 
some one else. 

Car. I am not afraid for myself. Nothing worse than being 
your wife can possibly happen to me. 

(He is c, she l. c. ; she now attempts to cross up c.) 

Sid. Wait. {Intercepts her.) I have something more to 
say. {The door-bell rings.) 

Car. I shall not listen to any more. It would be useless. 
Let me go. 

Sid. No. I tell you you shall listen ! If you don't- 

Car. Let me pass, or — whatever happens 

(She tries to pass him and go out c. d., but he takes hold of 
her arm to detain her ; she is trying to free herself from 
him, when Tom, overcoat on his arm and hat in hand, en- 
ters c. B.from l., pushing Sid. aside and stepping be- 
tween them. Sid. glares in angry amazement ; Car. falls 
back, staring at Tom, almost overcome.) 

Tom (to Sid.). Excuse me, but — why don't you let the 
lady pass? 

Car. Tom ! — Tom Dexter ! 

Tom. Yes; how do you do? Rather unceremonious, I'm 
afraid, but— I hope you'll overlook it and say you're glad to 
see me. 

Car. Why, yes, certainly. I — I am delighted, Tom, but 
— I didn't know you were in New York — I never dreamed 

(Gives him her hand in a half '-dazed manner ; he shakes it 
warmly.) 



42 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Tom. Of course you didn't. Kind of surprised myself. I 
will explain when we are — alone. 

Sid. Ah ! Perhaps I intrude? 

Car. (to Tom). This is Mr. Everett— Mr. Dexter (to Sid.), 
Mr. Everett, an old friend of mine from the country. 

Tom. Cranberry Corners. Not a very high-sounding name, 
I know, but it's my home, and I'm not ashamed of it. In the 
cranberry business myself. 

Sid. Indeed ! 

Tom. Yes. Came to New York on business, you know. 
Thought I might sell a few. 

Car. And I am very glad to see you, Mr. Dexter — Tom. 
(To Sid.) You see, he is such an old friend of mine. 

Sid. I see. Then no doubt you would like to have a little 
chat. (Goes R.) Very well, I will go in the library and have 
a smoke. 

(He smiles insinuatingly, bows and exits l.) 

Tom. Now — we are alone — you can really act glad to see 
me. Are you ? 

Car. Glad? Oh, Tom ! I am so — so glad. And yet — 
(as he tries to take her hand) no, you must not. Oh, Tom, 
if you only knew. 

Tom. Knew what? That I love you — that you love me — 
and that I have come to get you ? 

Car. But you don't know. It can never be. Oh, I am so 
miserable, so unhappy ! 

Tom. There, now, don't you feel that way. I have come 
to straighten things all out. I want to see your aunt — Mrs. 
Bannister. 

Car. But it won't do any good, Tom. She — I — you see, 
it is all settled. I am to be the wife of — that man. 

(Motions L.) 

Tom. M'm — really ? N-now, I don't know about that. Not 
if this man has anything to say about it. 

Car. But you haven't. It's too late now — I have prom- 
ised, and — I must keep my promise. 

Tom. I know, but just promise me a few things. Promise 
me you will go right up-stairs, or wherever she is, and tell that 
aunt of yours I want to see her. I didn't come to New York 
just to sell cranberries; I came to take a hand in what's going 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 43 

On, and I mean to do it. Come, now, little girl, go and tell 
her. 

Car. {going up, looking off c. d., apprehensively). But, 
Tom, I am afraid 

Tom. Pshaw ! When I'm here to protect you ? 

Car. Yes. I — you don't know Oh ! 

{Starts, fearfully, as she looks l., and sees Anas., who en- 
ters, sta/ids looking at Tom with lofty indignation. He 
follows Car.'s gla?ice, turns and sees Anas.) 

Tom {bowing). How do you do, ma'arn — Mrs. Bannister ? 

Anas. Mr. Dexter, I believe ? To what am I indebted, sir, 
for this unexpected visit ? 

Car. Why, auntie, he just happened to be in New York — 
on business — and thought he would call. 

Anas, {to Tom). I suppose your " business " can scarcely 
concern us, and as a social call may be considered out of the 
question, I fail to understand why you are here ? 

Car. Auntie ! 

Anas. You may go, Carlotta. I will speak to this — " gen- 
tleman " — alone. 

Car. But, auntie, he is my friend. He has come to see me. 

Anas. Do as I tell you. At once. 

(Car. looks wistfully at Tom, who smiles back at her encour- 
agingly. Exit Car., c. d. l. Anas, is r. c, Tom, c.) 

Tom. I hope you take no offense at my calling, ma'am. 
Being an old friend of Carlotta's, as she says 

Anas. My niece's name,, Mr. Dexter, is " Miss " Bannister. 
Pray do not forget that. She may have been an acquaintance 
— even a "friend" — of yours, at one time, in the country, 
where you were in your native element 

Tom. M'm — yes, "native element" about expresses it, I 
reckon. I'm like a fish out of water in New York. Still, seeing 
I'm here — and seeing I came principally for the purpose of see- 
ing you — why, perhaps we had better have a little talk. 

Anas. Sir ! I do not understand. You presume too much. 
Came to see me ? May I ask why you do me this — " honor " ? 

Tom. I suppose it does puzzle you. But, excuse me, but I 
think I have a right to take a hand, seeing your niece, Carlotta 
Bannister, if she had her own way, would be my wife and not 
the wife of the man you have selected for her, and whom you 
are trying to compel her to marry. 



44 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Anas, {almost beside herself ivith indignation). Sir ! How 
dare you speak like this to me ? I will have you ejected from 
my house ! 

{About to go up, but pausing as he speaks.) 

Tom (going close to her and speaki?ig with deep meaning). 
No, Mrs. Bannister, I don't think you will. If necessary to 
prevent it, I will call a friend of mine who is waiting in the hall 
there, and who is rather anxious to see you. 

Anas. What do you mean ? Who 

Tom. I have known him since last summer as " Ben Latham," 
but his real name is Freder 

Anas, (in terror). Stop ! You mean — he — that man 

Tom. Is here. Shall I call him? (Starts up.) 

Anas, (stopping him). No— no. Wait ! I— I cannot see 
him. Why — why have you brought him here ? What does he 
want? He cannot have any business with me. 

Tom. I think he has. He will be glad to explain what 
it is. 

Anas, (recovering herself — coolly). Ah, I see. You are in 
a plot against me, to force my consent to your marriage with 
my niece. I don't know what the man of whom you speak has 
told you — but I will tell you this, that I do not fear him, or 
you, and that that consent never shall be given. I must again 
ask you, Mr. Dexter, to leave my house. 

Tom. And I must beg you to extend your kind hospitality 
to me for a few moments longer. You succeeded last summer, 
Mrs. Bannister, in making your niece tell me there was no hope 
for me — that she was to be the wife of another. You compelled 
her to turn a deaf ear to all my pleadings, even when it was 
breaking her heart — for she loves me as I love her, and you 
know it. You are trying to do a terrible thing, but it shall not 
be done. I have come here to rescue her, and I mean to do it. 

Anas. Indeed ! How heroic. I cannot but admire your 
persistence, Mr. Dexter, but you are wasting your breath and 
talking nonsense. If you and that man 

Tom. That man, Mrs. Bannister, as you are quite aware, is 
no stranger to you. His right to say what Carlotta Bannister 
shall do exceeds even yours. 

Anas. A man who has just come from a prison cell has no 
rights, Mr. Dexter. Pray let this end our discussion. 

Tom. No ! — wait. 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 45 

(She is about to go out c. d. r., when the voice of Mrs. M. 
is heard, then that of Hez., and she is compelled to remain 
as they enter from r.) 

Mrs. M. There, I've got fixed up a little, and — oh, you 

here, 'Stasia ? How d' do ? Thought we'd (Sees Tom.) 

For the land's sake ! Of all things — Tom Dexter ! Where 
under the canopy — Hezekiar, see who's here. 

Hez. (coming down, as he sees Tom). I vum — Tom 
Dexter ! 

Tom. Yes, that's who it is. I must say I am equally sur- 
prised to see you here. How does this happen ? 

\_Exit Anas., c. d. r. 

Mrs. M. Why, we're married. On our wedd'n' tower. 
Y' see, he kept at me so, I jest had t' marry him t' get rid of 
him. 

Tom. Oh! that's it? 

Hez. Huh I Guess she was willin\ Got me at last. 

Mrs. M. Why, Hezekiar Hopkins — after the way 

(To Tom.) But what under the sun brought you t' New York, 

'n' how long you goin' t' stay, 'n' (Turns, misses Anas.) 

Why, where's 'Stasia? 

Hez. Sneaked out. Guess she ain't none too glad t' 
see us. 

Mrs. M. Treats us like she was a queen V we her slaves, 
as y' might say. But I don't care. It's Carlotty we come to 
see. 'N' you, too, I guess, Tom. Seen her yet? 

Tom. Yes, I 

Mrs. M. Seen that man they say she's goin' t' marry? 
Don't like his looks. If you let him have her, Tom Dexter — 
wal, you ain't got the spunk I always give y' credit for. 

Tom. I have the spunk, Mrs. Muslin, never fear. And I 
mean to have — her. 

Mrs. M. Good for you, Tom, 'n' I'm on your side. So's 
Hezekiar. 

Hez. Sure. 'F they's anything we c'n do, let us know — 
(standing up to Mrs. M., proudly) Mr. and Mrs. Hezekiah 
Hopkins — that's us. 

Mrs. M. (giving him a push). Hezekiar, you behave. 
(To Tom.) He's so proud, bein' a bridegroom on his wedd'n' 
trip 

Hez. Wal, got a right t' be, I reckon, with sech a sweet, 
blushin' bride. 



46 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

{Chucks Mrs. M. under the chin, trying to steal a kiss.) 

Mrs. M. Hezekiar Hopkins {cuffing him), ain't you got a 
bit o' sense ? 

Hez. See how she loves me? 

Tom. Sure, Hezekiah ; it's as plain as day. By the way, 
what do you think of New York ? Beats Cranberry Corners, 
doesn't it? 

Hez. I reckon. Why, y' couldn't find the Corners in it 
with a telescope. Beats all the places I ever heard tell of, 'n' 
a few more thrown in. Thought they was havin' a parade, 'n' 
stopped t' wait for it t' git by, so 't we could pass. It's like 
circus day, the county fair and a fust-class funeral, all put int' 
one. How long y' goin' t' stay, Tom ? 

Tom. Can't say, exactly, Hezekiah. Till I accomplish 
what I came for, I hope. How long are you here for ? 

Hez. Quite a spell. Mean t' see t' hull durn shootin'- 
match while we're here. Want t' have somethin' t' tell about 
when I git back t' the Corners. 

Mrs. M. I guess you'll have enough. Think you'll take 
home a bride, Tom ? 

Tom. M'm — that's what I want to do — and mean to, if 
possible. That Aunt Anastasia is a pretty difficult proposition, 
though. 

Mrs. M. Yes, a regular female czaress, as y' might say. 

Enter Car., r. ; smiles at Tom, then goes to Mrs. M. and 
Hez. 

Car. Oh, Aunt Em, I am so glad to see you ! Florine 
told me you were here. And Mr. — Hop 

Hez. "Uncle Hezekiah," now. Can't you give him a 
kiss? 

Car. {after embracing Mrs. M. with fervor, turns to him). 
Why, of course I can — and will. 

{Goes to him and he kisses her, proudly.) 

Tom {disconsolately). Look at poor me, left out in the cold. 

Hez. Shame, ain't it? But I reckon your time's a-comin'. 

Mrs. M. Yes, 'n' with interest, as y' might say. 

Car. {blushing, quickly changing the subject). And what 
is all the news? How is Uncle Andrew? And Bella Ann — 
and Nathan — and Oh, tell me everything. 

Mrs. M. Ain't much to tell. 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 47 

Hez. We're married. 

Car. Yes, and isn't it wonderful? I mean splendid, or — 
of course, I am very glad to see you so happy, and — oh, I am 
so glad to see you ! 

{Goes to Mrs. M., who embraces her again.') 

Hez. Brung you something. 

Car. You did ? 

Hez. Yes. (Looks about.) Where's my bag ? 

(Goes up, finds bag, brings it down.) 

Mrs. M. Land, I guess she won't think it amounts t' 
much — here in New York. 

(Hez. opens bag ; Car. close to him, others near. He and 
Mrs. M. take out things arid hand to Car., who receives 
them rapturously.) 

Hez. Here's a few o' them red apples you like so. 
(Gives her four or five apples.) 

Car. Oh, thank you ! [Bites one.) I just love them. 

Mrs. M. And a jar o' my chopped cabbage pickle you 
used t' be so crazy about. {Gives her fruit jar i?i paper.) 
And here's a holder Bella Ann made. (Gives her holder.) 
Land, I told her you wouldn't have no use for it, not doin' y'r 
own ironin', but she would send it. You can give it to the 
hired girl. 

Car. It was very kind of her. I do appreciate it. 

Hez. And here's a few hunks o' spruce gum I dug out for 
y' myself. (Gives her small package.) 

Car. Oh, thank you ! I'll chew it on the sly. 

Mrs. M. And some maple sugar Andrew sent y\ 

( Gives her package. ) 

Car. Oh, I'm so glad. I just love Uncle Andrew's maple 
sugar ! 

(Car. sits on sofa l., her hands and lap full of the articles ; 
Hez. and Mrs. M. sitting either side of her, Tom behind 
sofa leaning over. They are all very happy and animated, 
laughing, etc., oblivious of all else. At this point Anas. 



48 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

appears c. D. ; stands a moment looking on y greatly 
shocked and incensed, lliey do not see her until she 
speaks the second time.) 

Anas. Carlotta ! {Louder and still more severely.) Car- 
lotta ! 

Car. (looking up, coming to herself with a look almost of 
terror; springing to her feet ', the articles falling to floor). 
Yes— I— I— — 

{Stands looking at Anas., white and treiiib ling. Hez. and 
Mrs. M. remain seated for a moment, as if too surprised 
to stir or speak. Tom coolly comes out froyn behind sofa ; 
goes to Car., and stands by her side, boldly facing Anas., 
who disdains him.) 

Anas. Carlotta, you will go to your room at once. 

(Car. starts, but Tom puts his hand on her arm, stepping 
to c, between her and Anas.) 

Tom. Wait. 

Anas. Sir! how dare you? {To Car.) Carlotta, go to 
your room at once. 

Tom {still detaining Car., who clings to him tremblingly). 
You will pardon me, Mrs. Bannister, but I have something to 
say to you first. 

Anas. I refuse to have further speech with you. Carlotta, 
leave that man and do as I bid you. 

Car. But, Auntie, I 

Tom. She will remain where she is for the present. {Turns 
to Hez. and Mrs. M., who stand looking on, bewildered, but 
with encouraging glances at Car.) If you please- 

Hez. {who has been gathering up some of the fallen articles). 
Sure. Come on, Em. {Goes up.) 

Mrs. M. {approaching Anas.). Oh, you're wonderful high 
and mighty, ain't you, Anastasia Bannister? Well, mebbe the 
time' 11 come when y' won't be. I reckon you've heard that 
old sayin' about pride goin' before a come-down. 

Anas. Pray spare me your plebeian observations, Mrs. 
Muslin. 

Mrs. M. Observations ? They ain't. I'm jest givin' you 
a piece of my mind, and my name ain't Muslin ; it's Mis' Heze- 
kiah Hopkins, 'n' here's m' husban' 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 49 

(Anas, gives her a withering look. ) 

Hez. (urging her out a). Never mind, Em. Come on. 

Mrs. M. (in c. d. with him, looking back, with head up). 
Oh, I'll come. But she needn't think she can scare me, if her 
name is " Anastasia." 

(Tom and Car. are l. c. ; Anas. r. c. ; Hez. and Mrs. M. 
exeunt c. d. to r. ) 

Anas, (to Car.). Now, Carlotta, are you willing to do as 
I say? 

Car. I 

Tom (to Car., retaining hold of her hand). You will go, 
dear, because I ask you, not because Mrs. Bannister chooses to 
command. Just in the other room, a few minutes. 

Car. Very well. 

(She looks at him with a show of tenderness and reliance, 
avoiding An as., and goes up.) 

Anas. Carlotta, you will do as I say, or have cause to 
regret it. 

(Car., not noticing her and without another word, exits l. 
Anas, is about to follow her, indignantly, but Tom steps 
in front of her.) 

Tom. If you please, Mrs. Bannister. 

Anas. Stand aside and let me pass. How dare you treat 
me thus in my own house ? 

Tom. Forgive me, but we must have a little talk, you know. 

Anas, (turning up a). I refuse to listen. 

Tom. And I say you shall. (She turns to him, furious. 
He holds up his hand warningly.) One moment, please. 
My friend is still waiting (nodding his head toward off l.) — in 
the entry there. 

Anas. I am quite prepared for anything that he has to say. 
If he wishes to speak, let him do so. 

Tom. Very well. You succeeded in silencing him last 
summer, Mrs. Bannister, because then he had not all the proofs 
necessary to sustain his claims. Now — well, several months 
have passed since then. We have been searching — and not in 
vain. (Goes towards.) Do you still desire him to speak? 

Anas, {for a moment frightened, but recover ing her com- 



50 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

posure). I don't know what you mean by "proof," Mr. 
Dexter, but if you think I am the kind of person to be intimi- 
dated, you will find out your mistake. 

Tom (l.). There is no such intention, Mrs. Bannister. It 
is only that a wronged man, who has suffered unjustly, de- 
mands restitution to his rightful position and of that which 
belongs to him. 

Anas. He received his just deserts when he was sent to a 
prison cell. Justice was thwarted when he was permitted to 
leave it. 

(He pays no attention to her assertion, but goes up to c. d., 
disappears an instant l., and returns at once accom- 
panied by Ben, who is well dressed and has a gentlemanly 
appearance. Anas, is r. ; Ben, c. ; Tom, l. c. Ben 
stands looking straight at Anas, with an accusing glance ; 
she returns his look for the moment, unflinchingly.} 

Tom. He is here to answer for himself. 

Anas, (to Tom). Leave us. I will speak to him alone. 
(Tom looks at Ben, who motions for him to go, and Tom exits 
L.) Now, Frederick Bannister, you may tell me why you have 
sought me out again. I thought we came to an understanding 
last summer, that for a consideration you promised to keep 
silence, and that there were to be no further dealings between 
us. If, with the assistance of your ruralistic champion, you 
have come here to blackmail me 

Ben. Stop. The time has passed when you can insult me, 
Anastasia Bannister. Last summer I was sick, penniless, and 
had no strength, no mind, to look out for myself. The one you 
are pleased to sneer at as my "ruralistic friend " has indeed 
been a friend to me, and it is with his help that I have come 
once more to demand restoration — my daughter 

Anas. Who thinks you dead years ago, who never heard 
of your downfall — your disgrace. 

Ben. And who never heard who caused my downfall, whose 
lips uttered a lie and who perjured her own soul to send me to 
prison in place of the man who was really guilty. I committed 
no crime, Anastasia Bannister, and you know it. But you, 
proud, haughty woman of the world, to save your husband, my 
brother, and thus your position and the money that he had 
stolen, lied — yes, lied ! — and put the crime upon me. And I 
have suffered for it — years of torture — but now — now I can 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 5 1 

prove my innocence, my rights, and you can prevent me no 
longer. 

Anas, {still bravely facing hint, though in spite of herself 
showing some fear). That all sounds very fine, but I am not 
to be frightened with fine words and bold statements. Where 
are your proofs ? 

Ben. Proofs ? Here they are, Anastasia Bannister — proofs 
of my innocence and of your perfidy. 

(He takes folded paper from pocket and holds it out.} 

Enter Sid., r. 

Anas. You cannot frighten me with any such flimsy story. 
{Advances as if to take paper.) Let me see these wonderful 
"proofs," as you call them. 

Ben. No. They shall never leave my hands till 

{He draws back, puts paper behind him, not seeing Sid., who 
now snatches paper.) 

Sid. Are you sure ? 

Ben {turning, confronting Sid.). You ! Ah, — I might 
have expected this. Give me that paper ! 

Sid. Not so fast. Let me see what it contains. ( Opens 

paper ; reads. ) Ah — " The Dying Statement of " M'm 

— indeed ! — " of Henry Bannister " 

Anas, {amazed). Henry? — Henry — Bannister? 

Ben. Yes, madam. The confession of your husband, my 
brother, sent to his lawyer just before his death, with the in- 
structions that it be used in my behalf. That is why I am free, 
and why I have come to claim my daughter. Do you think to 
foil me now — you and this man, your accomplice, who wants 
to make Carlotta his wife because he thinks she has a fortune ? 

Anas. Stop ! How dare you make such accusations, here 
in my own house? 

Ben. Because they are true — true — and 

Anas. You say so. But where are your proofs — now ? 

{Exultantly.) 
Sid. Here they are — see ! 

{He deliberately tears paper into bits.) 
Ben {springing at him). Yon scoundrel — you thief 



$1 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Sid. Not so fast, my friend. The best thing you can do is 
to clear out, peaceably, if you wish to avoid trouble. 

Ben. No — no — I want my daughter — where is she 

Anas. Shall I call her ? Shall I tell her her father is here 

— a convict Would she acknowledge you, Frederick 

Bannister — you, a felon? We shall see. 

{She pretends that she is about to go out r., but pauses as 
she notices that Ren falters. He appears dazed, overcome ; 
staggers, puts hand to broiv ; seems about to speak, look- 
ing at her, then at Sid. , with weak defiance, which turns 
to piteous despair. Finally, appare?itly unconscious of 
what he is doing, with drooping head goes up and totter - 
ingly exits c. d. to l., without speaking or looking back. 
Anas, and Sid. give each other a glance of relief and 
triwnph. At this point voices of Mrs. M. and Hez. are 
heard off r.) 

Enter Tom, l. 

Tom. Where — where is he 

Anas. Gone, without leaving a word for his "ruralistic 

champion." And now, it is your turn to go, Mr. — er — 
Dexter ? 

(Tom looks about, bewildered ; goes up, just as Mrs. M. 
enters r., followed by Hez.) 

Mrs. M. There, Hezekiah's got washed, and I've tidied up 

a bit, 'n' {To Anas.) Say, 'Stasia, ain't dinner 'most 

ready? We're jest about fallin' t' pieces, as y' might say. 

Hez. Gee, yes ! I'm as holler 's an empty barrel. 

(Anas, looks at them disdainfully, not deigning to answer. 
Tom is up c, Mrs. M. and Hez., r. c. ; Sid., l. ; 
Anas., l. c.) 

Tom. But where is he ? Where is he, I say ? What have 
you done to him ? He is innocent — he has proofs! 

Anas. Proofs ? Ha ! — where are they ? 

Tom. Why, he — he 

Sid. {going up). His proofs? You want them? Well, — 
here they are ! 

{He flings the torn pieces of paper into T 'om's face ». Tom, 
dazed, stares at him an instant ; as the truth dawns upon 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 53 

him, straightens up, looks defiantly at Sid., then at Anas., 
and with a determined uplifting of the head, exits c. d. to 
r. Car. enters L. just in time to see him disappear, goes 
up to c, where she pauses in door, looking after him 
despairingly. She seems faint and leans against do or iv ay 
for support, weakly calling, " Tom! Tom/ 11 Anas. 
looks at her with an expression of indulgent, scornful 
pity, Sid., triumphantly ; and Mrs. M. andHKZ., as if 
too stir prised to speak.} 

Hez., Mrs. M., r. c. ; Car., c. ; Anas., Sid., l. c. 
{Tableau.) 



CURTAIN 



ACT IV 

SCENE. — The sitting-room at Ferndale Farm, in the even- 
ing, about two weeks after the close of the third act. Table, 
with red spread, l. ; chairs, sofa, etc., the typical furnish- 
ings of a prosperous and comfortable farmhouse. Aunt 
M. sits l. of table, mending socks ; And. and Hez. up 
l. c. playing dominoes. 

(Just before curtain rises a plaintive air, played on a violin, 
is heard. It continues, off r., for several minutes, after 
rise of curtain.) 

And. Domino ! There, I guess I got y' now, Hezekiar. 

Hez. (who has been " drawing, 11 and has a lot of dominoes). 
Huh ! think that's something great, don't y' ? Wal, 'tis, Pr 
you. Fust time you've beat me 't anything sence I d' know 
when. 

And. 'Tain't, nuther. Guess you f ' rgot a few games o' 
quates 'n' a lot o' argyments about politics. 

Hez. Hev, hev I ? I guess when y' come t 9 that — wal, if I 
was you, Andrew Dexter, I wouldn't talk. 

And. Oh, you think you know it all ! 

Aunt M. (looking around at them). For the land sakes, 
can't you two ever do anything without quarreling about it ? I 
thought you shook hands 'n' agreed never to argue any more? 

Hez. Wal, he started it. 

And. 'N' you druv me to it. 

Hez. I didn't, nuther 

And. Y' did, too 

Aunt M. It don't make any difference about who started 
it. One 's as bad as the other. I should think you'd better 
have more sense. For my part, I don't feel like such doin's, 
with our Tom 

(She stops, wiping her eyes ivith stocking.) 

Hez. That him playin' ? 

Aunt M. Yes. He don't do much of anything but take 

54 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 55 

walks or stay in the house V play those doleful tunes on his 
violin. Seems sometimes as if it 'd drive me crazy. 

(And. and Hez. have stopped playifig, forgetting their dif- 
ferences, and now turn about, much interested. And. 
rises and puts away the dominoes.} 

And. Wal, I always knew jest how 'twould be, him fallin , 
in love with a stuck-up city gal. 

Aunt M. Why, Andrew Dexter, she ain't ! Not one bit. 

And. No, but that aunt of hers is, 'n' she's under her 
thumb. Made her marry that other man. 

Hez. Be they married ? 

And. That's what we heard. 

Enter Bella, r., unnoticed, with hat on. She stands and lis- 
tens, greatly interested. 

Aunt M. Yes, seems that Aunt Anastasia had her way and 
made Carlotty marry a man she didn't want, 'n' here's our Tom 
mopin' himself sick over it. 

Hez. Didn't think Tom was the kind t' give up that easy. 

And. Huh ! Guess he had t', when she married another 
man. 

Aunt M. He didn't, though, 's long 's there was a bit of 
hope. But it simply seemed as if he couldn't stand it when it 
finally come to him that he'd lost her. He's jest pinin' away. 

( Wipes eyes.} 

Bella. Jest like one o' Berthy M. Clay's. 

Aunt M. Bella Ann, you there? Good land, you're al- 
ways listenin'. Where you goin' ? 

Bella. Jest for a little walk. 

Hez. You 'n' Nathan? When's it comin' off? 

Bella {going to c. d.). Huh ! Think you're smart, don't 
y', Hezekiar Hopkins? Jest b'cause you got roped in 

Aunt M. Bella Ann ! 

And. He ! he ! 

Bella. Wal, he needn't keep flingin' out about me V 
Nathan. He makes me tired. 

Aunt M. You're always tired, seems to me. {The violin 
music has stopped.} There, he's stopped playing. Thank 
goodness. Sometimes it makes me creep. Don't you stay 
long, Bella Ann. I've got some darnin' I want you to do. 



56 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Bella (in c. d., with door ope 11). Darn it ! 

Aunt M. What's that? 

Bella. Nothin'. I jest said I'd darn it. (Looks off to R.) 
Here comes Mis' Muslin — I mean Mis' Hopkins. (To Hez.) 
Guess she's after you. 

And. After? Not much. Don't nobuddy ever git ahead 
o' her. Do they, Hezekiar ? 

Hez. Think you're smart, don't y* ? 

Enter Mrs. M., c. d., hurriedly, pushing past Bella. She 
wears hat or bonnet, and shawl ; comes down to c, no- 
ticing nobody but Hez. 

Mrs. M. Oh, there you be ! I thought 's much. Playin' 
some game, I s'pose, 'nstead of stayin' home *n' helpin' me. 
Sneaked off without even wipin' the supper dishes. 

Hez. That's woman's work. 

Mrs. M. Oh, 'tis? Wal, I guess it's your work if I tell y* 
t' do it. (To Aunt M. and And.) Good-evenin'. I hope 
you'll excuse me, but I f'rgit m'self sometimes, he aggravates 
me so. Ever sence we got back from New York he's got sech 
high notions he ain't no earthly good. Wants t' go there V 
live. Did you ever? New York ! How 'd we ever make a 
livin' there ? 

And. S'pose Hezekiar could be a car conductor, *r one o' 
them constables with brass buttons on. 

Mrs. M. Yes, a pretty constable he'd make. Why, he 
couldn't even get across the street without one o' them t' help 
him. I guess Cranberry Corners is place enough for him. 

(Mrs. M. has removed wraps and now sits r. of table ; 
Aunt M., l. of table ; Hez. and And., r. and r. c, 
Bella still up by door.) 

And. I s'pose New York beats this all holler ? 

Mrs. M. Beats it? For the land ! Why, Cranberry Cor- 
ners wouldn't even make a fly-speck in New York, as y' might 
say. 

Bella. I'd jest love t' go there ! 

Aunt M. Bella Ann ! 

Bella. Yes, mum. Mebbe I will some day. 

Hez. On y'r wedd'n' trip — you 'n' Nathan Speck? 

Bella. Wal, I guess he's 's good a man 's some others 
got. So there ! (Makes face at him and goes out c. D.) 

And. Wonder 'f she meant you, Mis' Muslin? 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 57 

Mrs. M. My name ain't Muslin. 

Hez. 'Tain't no kind o' cloth, now. 

And. Excuse me. Meant Hopkins. 

Aunt M. You mustn't pay any attention to her impudence, 
Mrs. Hopkins. She ain't worth noticing. 

Mrs. M. Land, I know she ain't. She's about as much 
account as — as 

Hez. " As y' might say ! M 

Mrs. M. 'S you be, V that ain't much. (And. chuckles.) 
By the way, Miss Dexter, how's Tom ? 

Aunt M. Tom ain't so very well. 

Mrs. M. That's what I thought, the last time I saw him, a 
couple o' days ago. Looks kind o' pindlin'-like. Seems t' 
take it pretty hard, don't he? But I don't wonder. For my 
part, I can't understand all that business. As Bella Ann says, 
it was jest like one o' them stories in the New York Weekly. 
I never was so su'prised as I was when I saw your Tom 
there, V the way he went at it 'n' faced 'Stasia Bannister, I 
thought he was goin' V git the best of her 'n' carry Carlotty off 
right b'fore their very eyes — hers V that man's 'Stasia was bound 
she should marry. 'N' there was that other man, too, that kind 
of a tramp like, 't Tom took up with here last summer 'n' stayed 
here for weeks V helped in the cranberry fields. He seemed 
t* have somethin' t' do with it, though I couldn't make out 
what, but all of a sudden he seemed t' cave right in V walked 
out without a word. *N' I hear nobuddy ever could find out 
what b'come of him. 

Aunt M. Tom tried. He spent days trying to find him, 
but couldn't. And when Carlotta turned against him — that is, 
gave in to her Aunt Anastasia and that man — why, Tom jest 
came home and gave right up. Sometimes I've been almost 
afraid it would kill him. 

Hez. I'd like t' kill that mean old aunt. 

And. So 'd I — cut her head off with an axe. 

Aunt M. My goodness, what wicked thoughts ! 

Mrs. M. 'N' I d' know but I'd be willin' t' hold the basket 
t' ketch her head in, if she is my sister's husban's brother's 
wife. (Aunt M. looks further horrified.} Oh, I s'pose it's 
wicked t' even say sech things, let alone think 'em, but I ain't 
no saint, 'n' if I was, I declare 'Stasia Bannister's enough t' 
make even a saint fall off his pedestal, as y* might say. 

Hez. That's what she is, Em. Puts on more air 'n sev- 
teen windmills. 



58 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

And. She did seem t' be kind of a high-flier. 

Aunt M. Land, what's the use talkin' about her, when 
there's plenty o' pleasant things? Tell us some more about 
y'r trip, Hezekiah. 

And. Yep. About New York. 

Hez. Wal, we was there four hull days, V what we didn't 
see wa'n't wuth seein'. We went 

Mrs. M. {taking the words out of his mouth). Yes, we had 
the loveliest time ! We went t' one place they call the " Eden 
Musey," where y' see the grandest kind o' folks, only they 
ain't — jest wax — 'n' up to the Zoo, where all the wild animals 
are — real ones 

Hez. (interrupting her). Lions 'n' bears V zebrys 'n' 
elephants 'n' hip up-on-thomases 

Mrs. M. (as before). 'N' talk about high buildin's. Land, 
I guess the Tower of Babel it tells about in the Bible would 'a' 
looked 



Hez. Yes, y' ought t' see the Flat-iron Buildin' 



And. (he and Aunt M. appearing very much interested). 
Did y' see 'em make any flat-irons? 

Mrs. M. No; that's jest a name for it — 'cause it's that 
shape. 

Hez. But we went across the river underneath, without a 
drop o' wet. 

Aunt M. In a divin' suit? 

Hez. Naw. Rode — in a street car. Didn't even have on 
rubbers. Went to a show, too. Gals all dancin' round with 
less 'n' almost nothin' on — much as two hund'rd of 'em. 

Mrs. M. Yes. I thought 'twas goin' t' be a movin' picture 
show, but my land 

Hez. Wal, I guess 'twas a pict're, 'n' I reckon they moved 
all right. Like t' see it agin. 

Aunt M. Why, Hezekiah Hopkins, V you a good church 
member ! 

And. Good? Old reprobate ! 

Hez. You needn't talk. You'd 'a' been there yet. Yep, 
they've bored right under the river 'n' laid a railroad through 
the hole, so 't y' ride right under the water 'n' never feel a 
drop. 'N' then they take y' up in the air on another one, V 
when y' want t' go up-stairs 's much as seventy-eight flights, 
they put y' in a little room 'n' scoot y' up, 'n' 

Mrs. M. (chiming in the above speech as soon as he begins, 
so that they both talk at once). 'N' talk about style, Miss Dexter 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 59 

— land, they don't know what style is in Cranberry Corners. 
We went t' them big stores, Carlotty V I, V I declare one of 
'em's bigger'n this hull town, with the next county thrown in. 
'N' folks — wal, if you'd ever see some o' the women 

(Tom has entered r., stands dejectedly looking on. They 
both see him and stop talking at the same time. And. and 
Aunt M. follow their glance and see Tom.) 

Aunt M. Why, Tom, that you? We heard you playing 
on your violin. 

Mrs. M. Yes. That was a real pretty piece. You're quite 
a musician, Tom. 

Tom {smiling indifferently). Thank you. I don't pretend 
to be that. 

Mrs. M. But you be. Why, you play real well. Don't 
you think he does, Miss Dexter? 

Aunt M. Of course he does. Never took hardly any les- 
sons, either. 

Mrs. M. Land, I d' know who he'd take of, around here. 
We was jest telling 'em about New York, Tom, 'n' what a grand 
place it is. Hezekiar wants t' go there 'n' live. Did y' ever 
hear o' sech a thing ? Him ! 

(Mrs. M. is c, Aunt M., l. c. ; Hez. and And. tip l. ; 
Tom, r. c. He has his hat and is about to go out.) 

Aunt M. Where y' going, Tom ? 

Tom. Oh, just out for a little walk. {In c. d., looking out.) 
It's a pleasant night. Chilly, though, and feels some like 
snow. 

Aunt M. Well, mebbe a walk would do you good. It 
might make you sleep better. 

Mrs. M. Seems t' me you don't look as well as y' did, 
Tom. I ain't hardly seen y' sence we got back from New 
York. Wal, I guess y' went through enough t' pull anybuddy 
down. 

Aunt M. I wouldn't bring that up, Mrs. Hopkins. 

Hez. (Hez. a?id And. seated). No, I guess I wouldn't, 
Em. Let bygones be bygones. 

And. That's what I say. A gal that 'd treat a man the 
way she did you, Tom, ain't wuth frett'n' about. 

Tom (having come down to a). Don't say that, father. 
She's worth remembering — she's worth all the world — but I 



60 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

guess I'm not worthy of her, or fate wouldn't have taken her 
from me. 

Mrs. M. Fate? H'm ! I guess I'd call 'Stasia Bannister 
somethin' worse 'n " Fate M ! 

Tom (not noticing her remark). It wasn't Carlotta's fault. 
She was ruled by another — she was helpless. I don't under- 
stand it yet, the way I lost her just when I thought she was 
mine. There was some power, some influence, I never knew 
about — something that caused — him — to desert me as he did, 
to disappear and leave her to her fate. 

Mrs. M. Him? Her father. Say it. That's who he was, 
V we all know it now. Her father — Fred Bannister — and a 
convict. 

Aunt M. A — a convict ? Carlotta's father ? 

Mrs. M. Yes, that man that was here last summer 'n' you 
took in V kept for weeks. Oh, I s'pose Tom's never told you 
all that 

Tom. No, Mrs. Hopkins, I have never told them. What 
was the use? It's all over now. But Ben Latham — I mean 
Frederick Bannister — was innocent of any crime. He was sent 
to prison through the lies and the false testimony of a woman, 
the wife of his brother, who was really the guilty person. For 
fifteen years he was in that prison, before heaven intervened 
and he was pardoned. Then — well, we thought we had proved 
his innocence, that he could reclaim his daughter, and she the 

fortune that had been stolen from her, when Well, it's all 

over. Everything seems to be over for me. I 

(He has gone up c, now puts on hat and hurriedly exits. 
The others look after him in silence, with sad expression.) 

Aunt M. (after a pause ; wiping her eyes). Oh, dear, I 
don't know what's going to become of Tom. 

And. Let him spruce up and have some gumption. The 
idee o' makin' such a fuss over a city gal that threw him over 
the way she did. 

Aunt M. She didn't, Andrew Dexter, and you know it. 

Mrs. M. No; it wa'n't Carlotty's fault, I'll say that for 
her. If she'd had her way, she'd 'a' had Tom, instead o' that 
serpent. 

Hez. I say so, too, Em — same as you had me. 

(She gives him a disdainful look / And. chuckles.) 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 6l 

Aunt M. Yes, I believe Carlotta Bannister loved our Tom 
and would 'a' been his, if she'd had the chance. Poor girl, I 
guess she's unhappy, too. But don't let's talk about it now, 
seeing it doesn't do any good. I say let's go in the other 
room and have some singing. Mrs. Muslin — I mean Hopkins 
— will you play on the organ if we'll all sing? 

Mrs. M. Land, I can't play anything but hymns, 'n' them 
kind o' easy ones. But I'll do the best I can. 

Aunt M. Well, that's the best anybody can do. 

{They have all risen, about to go r., when Bella rushes in 
c. d., followed by Nat., who carries a sealed and ad- 
dressed letter^) 

Bella. Oh, Mis' Muslin 

Mrs. M. Muslin ! 

Bella. Hopkins 

Nat. Here's a letter for you. (Hands her letter.) 

Mrs. M. For me ? My goodness, who frum ? 

Nat. I d' know. I didn't open it. 

Mrs. M. (opening letter, reading, surprised). Why, it's 
from — from 'Stasia, V — wal, I declare — listen t' this. "My 
niece, Carlotta Bannister, suddenly disappeared, several days 
ago, and has not been seen or heard of since. All search for 
her has been in vain. If she is with you, tell her that I com- 
mand her to return at once, or " Here ? Why, she ain't 

here. Run away — disappeared If it don't beat all. 

(Sinks into chair.) I declare, I'm all beat out — weak as a rag, 
as you might say. 

(They all gather around her, very much excited. She gives 
letter to Aunt M., who reads it, others looking over her 
shoulder.) 

Bella. Oh, but ain't it romantic? 

Nat. Jest like a book, ain't it, dear? (Tries to kiss her.) 

Bella. Nathan Speck, you b'have. (Slaps him.) 

Nat. Ouch! Well, I guess I got a right. Ain't we en 

Bella. You keep still. We wa'n't goin' t' tell. 
Aunt M. Tell what ? 

Nat. Why, 't we're — engaged. (Quickly, as Bella is 
about to speak.) Well, ain't we ? 

Bella (bashfully, hanging her head). M'm — y-yes< 
Aunt M. Since when, I'd like to know? 



62 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Nat. Jest now — out there — a few minutes ago— in the 
moonlight. 

Bella. M'm — hm. 

Mrs. M. Wal, of all things! What'll happen next? 

Nat. A wedd'n', I s'pose. 

{Puts an arm about Bella, who draws away from him.) 

Bella. Now, Nathan ! Ain't you awful ? 

Aunt M. Such nonsense ! You two. As if we didn't have 
enough to think about already. I can't get over that about 
Carlotta. I wonder what Tom' 11 say. Dear me, I feel as 

if Well, anyhow, let's go in and have that music. 

Mebbe it'll kind o' quiet us down. (Goes r.) 

Mrs. M. Land, I don't feel much like music. 

Aunt M. 1 do — something soothing. 

(Exit Aunt M., r., followed by Mrs. M. ; Hez. and And. 
go r. ; Bella and Nat. are c.) 

And. Come on, Hezekiar, V leave the lovers t' mush. 
Enough t' make y' sick. [Exit, r. 

Hez. (going r.). Don't blame y' a bit, Nathan. Give 'er 
a kiss. Be'n there m'self. Might 's well make the best of it 
now. 'Tain't all it's cracked up t' be, afterwards. [Exit, r, 

Bella (with a languishing look at Nat.). Oh, Nathan ! 

Nat. (putting an arm aromid her). Oh, Bella Ann ! 

(They sigh sentimentally, a?id he kisses her, just as Tom 
enters c. They see him and spring apart.) 

Tom. Ho ! ho ! what's all this ? Stolen sweets ? 

Nat. No, they wa'n't. B'long to me. Don't they, Bella 
Ann ? 

Bella. M'm — yes. We — we 

Nat. We're engaged. 

Tom (somewhat interested, but still too dejected to take much 
notice). Oh, that's it? I see. You have my best wishes, 
both of you. I — I hope you will be very happy. 

Bella. Yes; happier'n yours has turned out, I hope. 

Nat. (taking hold of her and drawing her to R.). Keep 
still. Don't you know better' n t' bring that up? Come on. 

Bella. I didn't think. (As they $o r.) I guess it'll come 
out all right. 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 63 

(Nat. puts arm around her, and, looking devotedly into each 
other' s eyes, exeunt r. Tom smiles sadly, goes up to door 
or zuindozv, looks out, then comes and stands by table. 
An organ is heard off r., playing a hymn, then voices softly 
singing. Tom stands a moment, his face showing his suf- 
fering, then sinks into chair and buries his face in arms 
on table, sobbing gently. He remains thus a moment, as 
the singing continues, then rises and crosses slowly and 
exits L. There is a pause, during which stage remains 
vacant, the music confirming % then a man's voice off c. is 
heard crying " Whoa t ' ' Soon there is a knocking o?i door 
C, a pause, then the knocking is repeated louder. Bella 
enters r., goes and opens door, admitting Ben. He is 
well dressed and much improved in every way, looking the 
gentleman. Bella starts back in surprise as she sees him.) 

Ben. How do you do, Bella Ann? Don't you know me? 

Bella. Why — why, it's — it's Mr. Latham ! 

Ben. Yes— -as you knew me. Aren't the folks at home ? 
(Listens to singing.) Ah ! in there. 

Bella. Yes, all but Tom. {Motions l.) He's in there. 
But where under the sun did you come from ? I mean — excuse 
me, but — I guess I'd better go 'n' tell 'em. Won't they be 
surprised? {Starts r.) 

Ben {coming down, after closing door). Wait, Bella Ann. 
I have somebody else out here, and — I want to bring her in, 
and then — you call Tom. {Goes up.) 

Bella. Why — who 

Ben. I'll show you. 

{Opens door, exits, returns leading Car., in traveling 
dress y etc.) 

Bella. Oh! Oh! It's {Almost too amazed to 

speak, goes to Car., and looks at her as if not believing her 
senses.) Is — it — you? 

Car. Yes, Bella Ann. Aren't you glad to see me? 

Bella. Y-yes, of course — but 

Car. Well, then shake hands. 

{She takes Bella's hand.) 

Bella. Why, you've come back, and we thought — Tom 
thought My, if it ain't jest like in a novel book ! 



64 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

Enter Nat., r. 

Nat. Say, Bella {Sees Ben and Car., at first un- 
comprehending, then almost overcome with surprise.) I — 
vum ! 

Bella. Nathan, see who's here. 

Nat. Wal, if it ain't I don't b'lieve it ! 

Car. But it is, Nathan — really ! 

Ben. Sure thing, Nathan. Here we are. 

{They shake hands with him. At this point Tom enters L. t 
sees Ben and Car., pauses, dazed. He does not seem able 
to believe what he sees, looking at them as if in a dream. 
Car. goes to him, he puts out a hand as if to keep her 
away, seeming to think her a vision. She puts a hand on 
his arm.) 

Car. Tom ! Don't you know me? Tom, dear ! 

(Nat. and Bella exeunt r. Ben goes up and stands by 
window, looking out. Tom still stares at Car., slowly 
realizes her presence, with an inarticulate cry of joy opens 
his arms and she falls into them. He holds her close, 
kissing her. She sobs blissfully. The singing has ceased, 
and now Mrs. M. appears R. When she sees Car., she 
almost drops ; advances to c, looking at Car., dumb- 
founded.) 

Mrs. M. Carlotta Bannister ! You — you here? 
Car. {leaving Tom, who reluctantly releases her). Yes, 
Aunt Em, I am here. Are you glad to see me? 

Mrs. M. Glad? I'm — I d' know what y' would call it. 

{ttigs and kisses her.) 

Enter r., Aunt M., folio n>ed by And., Hez., Bella andNkT. 
They all look on, Aunt M. crossing to c. 

Aunt M. Can it — can it be? 

Car. Yes, my dear Miss Dexter, it can be — it is ! 

{Kisses her, then goes and cordially greets And. and Hez., 
who exclaim joyfully and greet her effusively. There is a 
scene of general surprise and rejoicing. Tom has gone up 
to Ben, shaken hands with him, and now brings him 
down.) 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 65 

Tom. And here is somebody else. 
Car. (going to Ben, tenderly). Yes— my father. 
Ben (with an arm around Car.). And the happiest man 
on earth. 

Tom. No, — not the happiest ! 

( They all greet Ben cordially, etc. Ben, Car. and Tom are 
c. ; Aunt M. and And., l. c. audi,. \ Hez., Nat. and 
Bella, r. c. and r.) 

Nat. Guess I come in on that. 

{Tries to kiss Bella, who cuffs him playfully.) 

Mrs. M. So do we all of us, I reckon, seem' what's hap- 
pened. But what has? I declare, I'm all at sea, as y' might 
say. Tell us. Carlotty, how'd you ever get away, and where's 
'Stasia, 'n' — here's a letter from her, sayin' you'd run away, 
'n' — for the land's sake, do tell us ! 

Car. Yes, Aunt Em, you shall hear all about it. You tell 
them — father, dear. (To the others, wonderi?igly, affection- 
ately leaning against Ben.) Just think, I have found my father 
— whom I thought dead — after all these years. 

Tom. And some one else, who thought you dead to him. 

(Car. between Ben and Tom.) 

Aunt M. But I'm like Mrs. Mus — Hopkins. I want V 
hear. 

And ' I Yes 
Hez. } * es * 

(They all gather about, one or two sitting, others standing, 
listening with the closest attention as Ben speaks.) 

Ben. Well, it's not a pleasant story, nor one I like to tell, 
but I don't blame you for wanting to hear it. I suppose you 
all know I have been in prison — yes, for more than fifteen 
years, since this little girl (caressing Car.) was five years old 
— and I was there suffering for the crime of another, and that 
other my brother. He was always greedy for gold, and his de- 
sire to be rich led him on and on till it led to crime. He was 
married to a woman — Anastasia Trent — who, herself worldly 
and extravagant, helped to drag him down. Finally, he was 
in the power of a man who threatened to expose his crooked 
dealings in money matters, and, to escape that disgrace, he 



66 CRANBERRY CORNERS 

committed a worse crime — murder. I was in the house, in the 
next room, when the deed was done, and so, in another room 
near at hand, were his wife and an old friend of hers — a former 
lover — whom some of us know as Sidney Everett. Well, when 
the shot was fired, I rushed into the room — excitedly picked up 
the pistol which my brother had thrown down, and was ac- 
cused of the crime. My own brother accused me of it, to save 
himself, and his wife perjured herself to save him. I was sen- 
tenced to life imprisonment — oh, the memory of those days, 
those awful years in prison ! — and — well, after fifteen years I 
was pardoned. I was alone, almost penniless. I became a 
wanderer — heaven sent me here, where I found a refuge — 
friends — and now — now 

(He breaks down, buries face in hands and sobs. Car. puts 
arms about him, caressing and comforting him.') 

Car. And now — now the clouds have all passed away, 
father dear. 

Ben. Yes, yes, — but oh, the memory of it ! 

Tom. Let that memory die out. It is all past. Think only 
of the present, the future, and the peace and happiness in 
store. 

Aunt M. Yes, and try to make up for lost time by being 
just as happy as you can. 

Ben {looking up, smiling). I will, I will. Oh, how kind 
you all are ! 

Mrs. M. But I want t* know about ' Stasia, that man, and 
all — there in New York — after we left. What else happened ? 

Ben. I hardly know. I remember that, dazed, distracted 
by the thought that, after all, my happiness was to be snatched 
from me, I left the house and lost myself in the great city. I 
don't know where I went nor what I did. For days I seemed 
to forget everything, and when I came to, I found that I had 
been run over by a car or wagon and was in a hospital. I was 
not severely hurt, and in less than a week's time was myself 
again. I went back, found my daughter, and just as they were 
about to sacrifice her to a man she despised, stole her away and 
— well, you know the rest. Here we are — she — I — all of us — 
the happiest folks on earth. 

(They all acquiesce joyfully. He has one arm about Car., 
while Tom is on the other side of her ; the others stand- 
ing about, Nat. a/^/JBELLA somewhat back, spooning.) 



CRANBERRY CORNERS 6j 

Tom. Yes, I guess we are. Seems to me if I was any hap- 
pier I'd— well, I'd 

Nat. Bust ! 

(Kisses Bella suddenly ; she playfully cuffs him.) 

And. Wal, all's well 't ends well. 

Hez. Guess they ain't no cause f'r an argy merit there, An- 
drew. Shake ! 

(They shake hands.) 

Aunt M. For my part, I say let's go in the other room and 
have another song. 

(Exit Aunt M., r., looking back smiling, and followed by 
And. and Hez., doing likewise, looking at Ben, Tom a?id 
Car., who are c. Nat. and Bella follow on; as they 
get r., he hugs her ; she says, "Now, Nathan /" pushes 
him off r., looking back, raising her eyes and clasping her 
hands in sentimental ecstasy.) 

Bella. Oh, my, but it's jest like the Fireside Companion / 

Mrs. M. (going r.). Fireside Companion? Good land, I 

guess it is. It casts Bertha M. Clay, Mary Jane Holmes and 

Laura Jean Libbey all t'gether in the shade — as you might say. 

(Shakes her head wonderingly, looks back, smiling, and 
exits r.) 

Tom. Yes — it seems almost too good to be true. Doesn't 
it, dear? 

(Car. nestles up to him, as he takes her in his arms. Ben 
puts her hand in Tom's, pressing the two tightly together, 
as if giving his blessing, crosses and goes outR. Tom and 
Car. stand a moment, oblivious to all but their own hap- 
pines s. The organ is heard off r., and voices singing 
" Auld Lang Syne. 11 After a pause, Tom and Car. walk 
sloivly across, she still in his arms, and they go off r., 
the singing being continued until of ter the curtain falls.) 



CURTAIN 



New Plays 



THE MISHAPS OF MINERVA 

A Farce in Two Acts 
By Bertha Currier Porter 

Five males, eight females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays 
one and a half hours. An exceptionally bright and amusing little play of 
high class and recommended to all classes of amateur players. Full of ac- 
tion and laughs, but refined. Irish low comedy part. Strongly endorsed. 
Price, 2$ cents 

CHARACTERS 
Mortimer J. Sterling, an easy-going business man. 
Victor Brown, a young doctor, friend of the family and especially 

of Minerva. 
Harry Stevenson, a club reporter t attentive to Clara. 
Barnes, the butler. 

Mike Shannon, a very new policeman. 
Mrs. Lydia Sterling, domestic and quiet. 
Minerva Sterling, willing to oblige. 
Clara Sterling, her younger sister. 
Molly, the maid. 

Belle Brantley, reporter for " The Screamer" 
Mrs. Wright, a club woman. 
Miss Palmer, a philanthropic worker. 
Mrs, Jennie Van Deusen Spuyker, a Personage. 
Members of the reception committee. 

A CHANGE OF HEART 

A Comedy in Two Acts 

By Albert H. Good 

Five males, six females. Costumes, modern ; scene, a single interior. 

Plays an hour and a half. An easy, pretty and effective play, suited for 

schools or young people. Scenery not absolutely necessary. Can be 

recommended. Price, 23 cents 

MAKING A SISTER 

A Mock Initiation for Ladies in One Act 
By Epes Winthrop Sargent 

Ten female characters. Costumes, modern ; scenery unimportant. Plays 
from forty minutes to an hour. A very bright and lively entertainment, 
especially strong in its dialogue. Plenty of ludicrous incident and char- 
acteristic action, but quite without the element of " rough and tumble " 
that would be so objectionable in an entertainment for ladies. The candi- 
date is placed in positions that are rather undignified but is neithei 
mussed nor mauled. Strongly recommended. 
Price, 25 cents 



New Entertainments 



LITTLE PLAYS FOR LITTLE 
PLAYERS 

A Collection of Simple Entertainments for Children, 
Suitable for use on Thanksgiving Day, Wash- 
ington's Birthday, Patriots' Day, 
and for general use 

By Harriette Wilbur 
and others 

A collection of eleven easy and popular entertainments for children of 
all ages and both sexes, and suited to a great variety of occasions. The 
last six of these have appeared previously as independent books and have 
enjoyed great popularity in that form; the first five are quite new. All 
contain all necessary music that is not easily accessible and diagrams of 
all the drills and marches that are described. Where the costumes offer 
any difficulty, as in the case of the Colonial entertainments, patterns are 
given so that these may be easily contrived at home. 
Price y 25 cents 

CONTENTS 

The Thanksgiving Feast. For fourteen boys and six girls. 
" Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater." For one little boy and on* 
little girl. 

The Minute Men. For sixteen small boys. 

Priscilla. For ten boys and ten girls. 

Scenes From Hiawatha. For use by the whole school. 

The All-America Eleven. For twelve boys. 

The Wings of Mignonette. For eight girls. 

The Dolls' Frolic. For two boys and three girls. 

The Golden Goose. For ten boys and four girls. 

Dorothy's Birthday. For nine boys and eight girls. 

The Lost Children. For seven boys, five girls and chorui* 

A DREAM OF MOTHER GOOSE 

By J. C. Marchant, S. J. Mayhew, Harriette Wilbur 
and others 

Containing: " A Dream of Mother Goose," "Scenes From Mothei 
Goose," " A Mother Goose Party," " Two Mother Goose Operettas." An 
excellent and varied collection of simple entertainments from Mothei 
Goose, for children of various ages. 

Price, 25 cents 



New Plays 



THE GOVERNMENT DETECTIVE 

A Play in Four Acts 
By Bernard Francis Moore 
Autlwr of "Belle the Typewriter Girl/* "Brother Against 
Brother" "The Moonshiner s Daughter" etc. 

Eight males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, four interiors. 
Plays two hours. A highly spiced melodrama suitable for performance 
by young folks or by their elders who like plenty of excitement. Easy 
and thrilling, like all the plays by this author. 
Price y 2J cents 

CHARACTERS 

Captain Wilbur Foster, a government detective; under the as* 

sumed name of Paul Gray, a retired banker. 
John Arnold, the captain of a secret band of criminals. 
Martin Jackson, a wealthy young man. 
Alexander Adams, warden of the Jefferson Prison. 
Nick Morton, Foster s assistant. 
James Armstrong, a retired capitalist 
Edwin Ray, his nephew. 
Peter, a clerk at the prison. 

Mrs. Laura Marston, a young widow and Johrissisttr. 
Clara Armstrong, James' daughter and heiress. 
Effie Jackson, Martin s sister. 
Mary, a servant. 

A PECK OF TROUBLE 

A Comedy in One Act 

By Alice C. Thompson 

Five females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays twenty 
minutes. A capital little play for young girls in or out of school ; clean, 
bright and easy to get up. 

Price, IJ cents 

MUCH TOO SUDDEN 

A Comedy in One Act 

By Alice C. Thompson 

Seven females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays thirty 
minutes. Mrs. Alston is a fond mother who cannot see that her daughters 
have grown up until they and all the rest of the world are aware of it. 
Her awakening is very funny. Clean and bright. Recommended for 
schools. 

Price, 1$ cents 



'JUN 30 1913 



New Entertainments 

DRILLS AND ENTERTAINMENTS 
FOR CHILDREN 

By Harrieite Wilbur 

Author of "All the Tear Round" "Little Plays for Little 
Players" "A Dream of Mother Goose " {in part), etc. 

A collection of pretty and picturesque drills containing several of un- 
usual novelty and effectiveness. Of the thirteen entertainments the first 
seven are quite new ; the last six have appeared before as independent 
books with good success. All are published complete with diagrams and 
all necessary music that can be reprinted and full instructions for proper 
production. The following list of titles will give a better idea of the 
variety and scope of the collection than can be conveyed by any description. 
Price y 25 cents 

CONTENTS 

A Billiken Frolic. For eight boys. 

Teddy Bear and Johnny Bear. For eight small boys. 

" Nid Nid Nodding." For any number of little children j^om 
three to six. 

The Workers. For twelve boys. 

A Pop-Corn Ball. For eight, twelve or sixteen girls, twelve 
or thirteen years of age. 

Highland Echoes. For any even number of boys. 

A Yard of Dandelions. For eleven little girls. 

Juvenile Fantastics. For an equal number of girls and boys 
from six to nine years old. 

The Butterfly. For any number of primary pupils. 

The Soap-Bubble Drill. For sixteen girls. 

The Tennis Drill. For sixteen girls. 

The Harvesters. For eight boys and eight girls. 

The Bread and Milk Drill. For ten children, boys and girls. 

The incidental music for "A Billiken Frolic " is published 
separately and can be supplied in sheet music form. 
Price y 30 cents 



Sent post-paid on receipt of price by 

Walter H. Baker & Co., 5 Hamilton Place 
BOSTON, MASS. 

3477-1 76 
Lot 57 



3\. iU. Pincro's Plays 

Price, 50 Cents Gacb 

Min fHANNFI Play in Four Acts ' Six males » five females. 
lflIi/ a> vOii.llll£«Li Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. 

Plays two and a half hours. 

THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH 53T fc$K 

males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interiors. 
Plays a full evening. 

THF PRftFIIPATF P la y* n Four Acts. Seven males, five 
* ***-* * IWr LiIVJ/\ I la females. Scenery, three interiors, rather 
elaborate ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF QfHnfll MIQTRFQQ Farce in Three Acts. Nine males, 
lIlEi 0\^nUVLil?U01IV£iOiJ seven females. Costumes, mod- 
ern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY !!& to tt. A fte 

females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a 
fuli evening. 

QWFFT I AVFlSinFP Comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, 

O TT £i£i 1 LitX Y EilllSCIX. f ouv females. Scene, a single interior, 
costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF THITNnFRRniT Comedv in Four Acts. Ten males, 
Hid inullULlVDULl nine females. Scenery, three interi- 
ors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF TIMF^S Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females. 
*"" * ll»l£iO Scene, a single interior ; costumes, modern. Plays 
a full evening. 

THF WFAKTR <!FY Comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, 
in " f f Ei/\I\.£iI\ OEiA eight females. Costumes, modern; 
scenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE SSSS&SS.2& 

Costumes, modern ; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Salter S, Pafcer & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 






decent popular Paps 



THF AWAKFNIMl Pla y in Four Acts - B F c - H - Chambers. 
llllv ATT ^iIVL,ninu ^ our males, six females. Scenery, not diffi- 
cult, chiefly interiors ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 
Price, 50 Cents. 

THE FRUITS OF ENLIGHTENMENT g° y l%£ T0 I 0, ^£& 

one males, eleven females. Scenery, characteristic interiors ; cos- 
tumes, modern. Plays a full evening. Recommended for reading 
clubs. Price, 25 Cents. 

BIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR ^T K ™ r A e ^ cts T ^ 

males, three females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, one interior. 
Acting rights reserved. Time, a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

MIRFAT HIISRANT) Comedy in Four Acts. By Oscar Wilde. 
ivijAij iHJkJUtMMr Nine males, six females. Costumes, mod- 
ern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. Acting rights 
reserved. Sold for reading. Price, 50 Cents. 

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST ££• & 5*™ 

Wilde. Five males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenes, two 
interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Acting rights re- 
served. Price, 50 Cents. 

LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN « to ^™ aS 

males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full 
evening. Acting rights reserved. Price, 50 Cents. 

NATHAN HAI F pla y in Four Acts - B ^ Clyde Fitch. Fifteen 
HAlllfiil liALiLi m ales, four females. Costumes of the eighteenth 
century in America. Scenery, four interiors and two exteriors. Act- 
ing rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

THF ftTHFR FFTTftW Comedy in Three Acts. By M. B. Hobjte. 
lllLi V1IJ.LR ILrUMMT Six males, four females. Scenery, two 
interiors; costumes, modern. Professional stage rights reserved. 
Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

THE TYRANNY OF TEARS gSSSifeiSSU^S £ 

males. Scenery, an interior and an exterior ; costumes, modern. 
Acting rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

A WOMAN OF NO IMPORTANCE gEftSSrs^ftJa: 

seven females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors and an 
exterior. Plays a full evening. Stage rights reserved. Offered for 
reading only. Price, 50 Cents. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Salter t^ TBafter & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 

8. J. PARKHILL 4. CO , PRINTCI S. BOSTON. 






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